Dangerous Desires
by Violet Hyena
Summary: Derek's doppelganger seduces Stiles and Stiles asks the real Derek out on a date. Derek has no clue what he's talking about and they soon discover that there is an incubus like creature stalking Beacon Hills. (Sex. Sex drugs. Slightly non-con, but still has to be warned for.) Sterek, Scott/Isaac, Erica/Boyd, Suprise. Updated Tuesdays and Fridays
1. Week 1

Finally, my Teen Wolf fic that has PLOT. Well, long plot. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer, I do not own Teen Wolf, but I would totally send my creature Ideas to Jeff Davis if he would like :p

Warning: Sex, not all graphic, it would take too long to write every thing. Slight non-consentual activity in later chapters, just so you are warned. Sex drugs, yeah.

Pairings: Derek/Stiles, Scott/Isaac, Erica/Boyd, Surprise

* * *

The first few weeks into summer vacation, turned out as Stiles would have never guessed. He just, at this point in his life, never thought he'd be looking forward to seeing Derek Hale, Beacon Hill's number one sourwolf. It was just a crazy, weird place he found himself and he wasn't exactly sure how he'd gotten there. Stiles was laid out in his rolling chair, balancing his pencil on the bridge of his nose as he stared up at the ceiling. His hands cupped the back of his head, wondering if he was dreaming. He had been sleeping a lot lately.

Derek. Stiles grimaced a little, biting the inside of his lip. Stiles had to think of this thing rationally, because this whole thing with Derek wasn't fair. It didn't even make sense; did it? Summer vacation started and he was thinking, okay, cool, werewolf things would be easier to deal with without juggling school and a strict curfew. Less worrying for dad and more awesome adventures with his best friend. Win-win. But... nothing happened. Him and Scott were cool, two available bachelors hanging out, like old times. But there was an over hanging unease because no one had heard from Derek or any of his pack. Everyone had disappeared it seemed. No one was at the Hale house. Or anywhere. Stiles had asked Scott if he could howl and ask what the hell was going on because no one was answering his texts and Derek never replied by calling either. But Scott wouldn't, his excuse was because he wasn't in Derek's pack, which didn't help Stiles at the moment.

And then out of no where one night, Derek just appeared in his room like he always did; sans leather jacket and cell phone. Sure it started out as normal, Derek freaking him out by suddenly being THERE instead of knocking like a normal person. And reasonably, Stiles wanted to know what the hell was going on and where Derek had been for x-amount of time because not knowing made Stiles antsy. It had nothing to do with worrying about Derek, but everything with the fact that Stiles could feel something was up and it hadn't reared it's ugly head yet.

The next thing he knew, Derek had him back flat against the wall and was kissing him, with tongue. And okay, fantasies were one thing, but Stiles had a healthy dose of fear to preserve his life so he never even hinted that he personally found Derek was mind numbingly hot. Because the downside was that Derek was as violent as a angry bear and had the personality of an igloo. It was enough for Stiles to know to steer well clear of that area of thought, and Derek made that easy every time he encountered him when the kamina was around. Ungrateful jerk.

But then Derek was pressing that hard body against his and it was enough to distract from the fear that Derek was there to kill him. Kissing, nipping, rubbing, and some very processioned dry humping on Derek's part left Stiles an embarrassing mess of whimpering with soiled pants. And it was so not fair because he was unprepared for anything like this to happen in reality.

And then it kept happening, Derek coming over, explaining next to nothing before blowing Stiles' mind for seemingly no reason. Well, besides the obvious reason, because Derek didn't just come over to dry hump. Stiles distinctly remembered a couple of exchanged hand job, some frottage, and Derek had even given him his first blow job, along with inserting some experimental fingers into Stiles. Actually... They were all firsts to Stiles and he had a nagging voice in the back of his head that he should be trying to figure this out harder, because it was all so fast and hot, but on the other hand he was finally getting some. And he'd wanted some since he hit puberty. This was so much better than meeting up with Derek only to get glared at and fight some dangerous, and usually hideous, monster.

Oh god, and the reaction Scott had had when he'd come over earlier that day was probably the worst, yet funniest reaction Stiles had ever seen. Scott had walked in, took one whiff of Stiles room and hit the wall in the hallway, startling Mr. Stilinski downstairs because of the huge crash. After letting the sheriff know they were okay, Scott just saw a spider or something, Scott dragged Stiles outside to talk, gasping fresh air.

"Shit, you reek of Derek, you know." Scott had gasped, seeming to realize something he'd been trying to figure out for a while, "Are you seriously sleeping with Derek?" One of the most embarrassing conversations with his best friend, thank you.

The pencil rolled off his nose when Stiles tried to check his phone, wondering if he should text Derek about Scott knowing. Stiles leaned down to grab the pencil when he saw dirty sneakers on his carpet. Not his mind you, ones that belonged to a tall, dark and handsome man. Stiles' eyes lifted, seeing Derek's raised brows. He looked less likely to be aggressive when he did that.

"You're making this into too much of a habit." Stiles sat up and tossed the pencil onto his desk, "Seriously, my dad is home."

"So?" Derek shifted his weight to one foot and Stiles scratched the back of his neck under his sweater; because he'd been feeling chilly lately, even though it was summer. And California.

"Scott came over, he kind of... you know, smelled it." Stiles had done his best to get rid of anything soiled, but there was still some sort of funky musky scent that Stiles now smelled when he walked into his own room. He knew it was Derek's scent. Stiles did his best not to enjoy it too much. To his credit, Derek actually looked amused, mouth twitching a bit in the corner, "He might be slightly traumatized."

"He can cope." Derek walked closer to Stiles and Stiles leaned back in his chair, eyes shifting upwards because he was totally eye level with Derek's junk and he was not just staring at it a moment ago. He wondered briefly when Derek started wearing such tight pants. "Thought about my offer?" Stiles face flushed and his chair swung strategically around to hide this fact. Stiles rested his elbow on the arm rest and his fingers curled, his eyes fixating on a water spot that was in his ceiling.

"Well it's hard not to... I mean, not that I was dwelling over it or anything." Not that Stiles hadn't more than occasionally had the fantasy of Derek having sex with him, but it was clearly a delusion of his own hormonal wants than any rational reality. After all, talking with Derek Hale for more than 5 minutes was like taking a freezing cold shower. Or at least it was like that before Derek started coming over and doing all these very odd, but very hot things to him. And then he could _almost_ forgive that Derek still didn't tell him anything, or was even remotely polite. Almost.

"Is that a yes?" Derek's voice was close and Stiles turned his chair slightly more and nearly bumped cheek to cheek with Derek. Stiles could feel his own heart beat in his chest, which meant it must have been like drums to Derek. Derek was giving him an expecting stare.

"It just seems really fast." Stiles breathed and damn it, he wasn't a wolf but he could smell Derek too. He smelled good.

"And what? You want me to wine and dine you like a girl?" Derek's eyes were steady on him and Stiles fidgeted, his gaze falling down Derek's strong jaw and neck.

"No but... I didn't expect to be your booty call." Stiles' face was still a nice warm red by now he was sure. Derek leaned his weight on the arm rests of his chair, face to face with Stiles and Stiles met eyes with the alpha. Their lips a breath away. Stiles pinched his bottom lip with his teeth.

"You liked it when I fingered you." Derek seemed to be accusing and Stiles felt reasonably that he was guilty. Because damn, he'd never felt anything like it before, and he hadn't stopped thinking about it in his free time. Or even when he shouldn't have been thinking of it. Derek leaned even closer to Stiles' warm ear and his stubble scraped Stiles' cheek, "Imagine more." Stiles swallowed, too loudly in his own opinion. All he could DO was imagine more. Stiles felt a warm hand on his thigh and he again had that nagging sensation that something was off. Maybe it was werewolf mating season or something and Derek was just being horny, but then it didn't explain why Derek wasn't sleeping with Erica or someone who was other than Stiles. Because Stiles had always gotten the impression that Derek was permanently annoyed by him and was not worth anything past a chew toy to the man.

There was a tiny prick under Derek's fingertips and Stiles reflexively jerked. The hell Derek, claws? Stiles looked down, seeing nothing but human fingernails. But then he felt very warm and he tasted blood so he stopped biting his lip. His bottom lip throbbing. Derek must have taken Stiles' silence as consent because Derek's lips moved to his and licked the lip Stiles had just been gnawing off. Stiles' lips opened to the kiss and didn't argue about the assumption. Derek was a very good kisser, and tonight was no different. He pulled Stiles to his feet by his hip and arm and Stiles went willingly, being pressed against Derek's tight body.

"You know I think this is illegal or something." Stiles said when his back hit the bed and he remembered his dad was downstairs. Derek was over him and removing his own shirt which always made Stiles' mouth go dry, "You know cause I'm like 3 weeks from 17 and Cali's age of consent is 18..."

"As if you're one to follow rules." Derek scoffed and was quick in removing Stiles' shirt layers. Stiles' breath hitched, feeling Derek's touch felt magnified tonight, like it went straight to his nerves.

"My dad is right down stairs." Stiles whispered earnestly, trying to hold back a whimper that was in his throat when Derek explored his chest with his mouth. It wasn't just his lips and tongue because Derek also used his teeth and sucked on patches of skin. And his skin was already on fire.

"Then, you'd better, stay, quiet." Derek eyed him and punctuated by kissing down Stiles' belly and unzipping the teenager's pants. Stiles hummed, his head rolling back and gritting his teeth and sucked back a moan. Not fair, Derek hadn't even done anything to him yet. Then again, flipping Stiles over onto his knees was something as Derek all but ripped off his pants. Derek kissed the nape of Stiles' shoulder and Stiles' hand gripped Derek's hair, "Relax." Derek breathed and Stiles gave a dry laughed into his pillow. Relax, yeah right. No part of his body could relax at the moment, and he was sure Derek knew that.

Lucky for Derek there fear of his dad walking in on them kept Stiles relatively quiet, but his pillow would never be the same. And Derek made up for it because it felt like everything Stiles had dreamed.

* * *

First Chapter is complete.

I think this story took me over a month to write, it's fairly completed, so I'm going to be posting every week. Probably Tuesdays. Although if I get more reviews than I'm expecting, I might post them faster. It's long, 57 pages. I hope you enjoy it everyone!


	2. Week 2

Updating today, mostly cause I'm excited to get to the good parts, as I'm sure others are excited as well

* * *

Stiles groaned painfully in dramatic fashion as the sunlight was glaring in the window and his dad was standing over him, all dressed up for work. His dad was giving him one of those concerned parent looks and Stiles could only stare bleary up at him. All Stiles knew was that there was not a warm werewolf curled up next to him, which was sadly per normal, and he and Derek had been having actual sex for the past 5 nights.

"Son, I know it's summer and all but it's 3 in the afternoon and you haven't even been out of the house in 3 days." His dad watched him as he grabbed for his phone, missed twice because it was an extra 2 inches from its usual spot. Finally he grabbed it, found 14 messages from Scott and his clock said 2:56pm.

"S'not 3 yet. I got 4 more minutes." Stiles mumbled and frowned up at his dad, "And haven't you heard of knocking?"

"I DID knock." Sheriff replied, scratching his head at his offspring, raising an eyebrow at him, "Once at 7 to see if you wanted breakfast, once at 9 because Scott came over, then for lunch, and then 10 minutes ago. And then once more before I came in." Stiles blinked, he couldn't remember any of those times. And he still wasn't that hungry. He was a bit sore; in one obvious place, but also his arms and back was sluggish and he found it hard to keep his head up. His dad crouched down, eye to eye with Stiles, eyes squinting and mouth slightly parted, "Do you feel alright, son?"

"Yeah, yeah." Stiles lied smoothly and shook his head, then pressed his palm to his forehead as his brain raddled around in his skull. He made a note not to do that again. His fingers gripped the sheets and he looked back at his dad, leaning his chin on his propped up hand, "Still tired though." His dad didn't seem convinced.

"I appreciate you staying around the house for more that 5 seconds in the summer time, but it is summer, you don't have to make up the time during school by sleeping in. You CAN go hang out with your friends."

"It's fine, fine." Stiles' waved his other hand, which took more effort than he thought it would to wave off the heavy concern. His dad didn't buy it and got up, turning on Stiles' light and Stiles covered his eyes, "Too bright..."

"Stiles, you've been sleeping all week," his dad walked back over to him, "Have you even looked at yourself recently?"

"I..." Stiles' eyes grew used to the light and he forced himself up, only wearing a large black t-shirt and nothing else. He pushed back the 3 layers of blankets and sat up, "Okay, maybe I don't feel that good." His dad leaned close, which seemed like a fast movement so he eyed his dad, frowning, "What?"

"What are those bruises on your neck?"

Stiles' hand slapped to his neck, remembering Derek had made a point to suck his skin hard last night, damn him, "Ah... I, have... what bruises?" His dad stood up, both brows raised.

"You're going to the doctor, I've already made an appointment."

Stiles groaned, "DAD, I'm _fine_. A doctor isn't needed."

"Get up and get dressed, we're going in 30 minutes." His dad tilted his head to one side, "When did you get that shirt?" Stiles looked down and winced because his neck strained, but he realized he was wearing Derek's shirt.

"Uh..." Stiles glanced back up, "Old gift, I think." Stiles was sure his dad didn't believe him again. His dad clapped his hands together, making Stiles flinch from the sudden loud noise.

"Shower. Now." His dad then left.

Stiles forced himself onto his feet and he realized how lethargic he felt. He rubbed his eyes and shuffled to the bathroom, flicking on the light. His eyes blinked furiously with the light and he jumped as he looked in the mirror. Oh god, that's why his dad looked so worried. His skin was pale and his freckles looked like someone had used a black marker on his face and his skin was all blotchy. Not to mention the dark, almost hollowed out bags under his eyes. Maybe he WAS sick. Wait. Derek. Stiles got a cold shiver up his spine. Derek hadn't used a condom the first few times, so did the werewolf pass something onto him? He was starting to think going to the doctor was a good idea. Stiles stripped off the shirt and stepped into the shower, cleaning up. He remembered that Derek had been sneaking into his house for the past two weeks, sexing him up. Stiles was worried, thinking of all the rumors and stories of people getting HIV and AIDS. Was Derek sick, or was he a carrier? Or did the werewolf thing just keep it at bay. What the hell? He wasn't even sure it was that, but now he was worried.

* * *

Sorry for the HIV scare :p You'll know next week.


	3. Ginseng

"So... you got the flu?" Scott asked slowly and Stiles was relieved to nod. He was still in the clothes he had been sleeping in, because the doctor said bed rest and prescribed meds that wouldn't conflict with his Adderall. He was wearing sweats and sat cross legged in his bed.

"Yeah. Scared the crap out of me for a minute cause you know, Derek..." Stiles let out a tiny laugh but it stopped very quickly because Scott didn't laugh too. Scott had that serious Scott face on and Stiles rubbed his arm where his muscles were still lightly sore from influenza. He knew he hadn't been feeling the best even before they'd actually had fluid contact, so Stiles doubted Derek had passed anything to him. And Stiles researched it thoroughly once he got back from the doctor's. It had started too quickly. Stiles was 99.9% it was there before he'd started having sex with an alpha werewolf.

"Has he even said anything to you since he's been, coming over?" Scott asked and Stiles picked at the sheets and hugged the pillow that was in his lap. Scott was sitting in his computer chair backwards, arms resting on the back of it.

"I ask." Stiles looked to his phone and picked it up, flicking through his numbers, "He never tells me anything about well... anything outside what we do." He glanced up at Scott, who made a face, "Shut up, do you know how many times I've had to sit and listen to you and Allison go back and forth with all the sultry banter and lewd messages. Bout time I had something too."

"But with Derek?" Scott asked and Stiles squirmed a little, god, why was this sex thing getting so complicated? Stiles sighed, frustrated because he went through his phone book 5 times and Derek's number wasn't there. The hell?

"Look, I know it's weird." Stiles said, "I mean, I'm still getting used to it." He was still getting used to Derek Hale coming over and sexing him up in the early hours of the morning. And he was starting to worry himself by not caring why Derek was coming over, just as long as he was there, "Damn it, where'd it go?" he looked up at Scott, "Do you have Derek's number?"

"No, you never gave it to me. He usually just howls for me. And he hasn't." Scott was staring at Stiles, all concerned, or constipated. Or thinking too hard, "You know I still haven't seen him since you two have been doing it."

"You haven't? That's weird. Right?" Stiles checked once more, checking every single name in his phone, because for the life of him he could not remember the last 4 digits. He knew it was a New York area code, that was it.

"He doesn't even show up when I'm around your house." Scott complained, his jaw resting on the seat, sounding frustrated, "Seriously not funny anymore." Stiles smirked.

"What, you actually want to see Derek now?" Stiles teased.

"Not in the same way you do," Scott looked at him and Stiles shrugged, locking his phone and tossing it to the side. Derek would probably call him again, then he could text him repeatedly until Derek would talk to him. Scott was still staring at him.

"What?" Stiles finally asked, "What do you keep looking at?" He looked at himself, under his arm and behind him.

"You just... you're different?" Scott shrugged.

"Okay..." Stiles rolled his eyes, "That's a very detailed answer."

"I mean..." Scott opened his mouth, then closed it again, trying to find the correct words. Stiles allowed him the time, his thoughts drifting back to Derek again, "You seem happy." Stiles paused, then frowned.

"What? I'm not happy usually?" Stiles asked, though thinking back, he couldn't remember a long term happy mood for the past few months. Monsters and werewolves usually had him distracted.

"Well you can be HAPPY but I mean you know..." Scott made a hand gesture, as if that was supposed to explain all.

"No, I really don't know, Scott. Enlighten me." Stiles' hands opened, leaning forward to prompt his friend on.

"Do you... like Derek?" Scott asked leaned to the side, as if those were the most cautioned words he could think of. Stiles mulled the words over. Well, he liked a few things about Derek now that he was getting laid. But it wasn't like Derek was that much nicer to him. Stiles frowned, because he knew that wasn't what Scott was asking. He closed his eyes, thinking.

"Yeah, maybe." Stiles gave a little shrug, not wanting to think too hard about it right now, "I mean... he hasn't thrown me around for a while. I mean in the bad way." he smiled when Scott made a dramatic gag face, "Well, I guess he just hasn't been as sourwolfy as usual. He's still a dick, but at least now he's being a dick in a way that's useful." Scott was just giving up on making the faces at that point and Stiles pouted, because seeing Scott make faces was fun, "Okay, okay, I'll stop." He paused, picking at the corner of his pillow as he hugged it. It still smelled slightly of Derek, "Would it be, um, bad, if I liked him?" Scott sat up straight.

"You're serious?" Scott asked and Scott shrugged.

"I'm JUST asking, Scott. Okay? Geez. I don't _know_ or anything. I mean, it's not as if I know if he likes me back, he's basically just been a booty call that shows up all the time."

"Oh god, you're wondering if he likes you too?" Scott said, as though it said volumes when Stiles didn't think it did.

"Well, yeah, it crosses my mind, okay?" Stiles' skin flushed, "I mean he comes out of no where this summer after being gone for weeks and pops up at MY... room." Did he ever remember seeing Derek use a door? "And you know I wonder why? I mean, why not someone else. Why me? Not that I'm not an obvious superb specimen of male vitality." Scott rolled his eyes, "But maybe, in his own weird, antisocial way... he might like me too?" Stiles' watched Scott's fingers flex in the back of the chair and Scott looked concerned.

"Maybe?" Scott tried to sound helpful, but at least he didn't make another gag noise.

"I mean, I'm not banking on it." Stiles said reasonably to his fingers, which were starting to pick a hole into the corner of his pillow, "I mean, it's Derek Hale." He ignored the fluttering sensation it caused.

* * *

After Scott left, Derek appeared about 20 minutes later. Stiles had been brushing his teeth and when he came back into his room there was Derek, with a plant in hand and Stiles stared at it when it was held out to him. It was leafy green with a pile of blackish berries on a long stem and pale dirt encrusted roots at the bottom. Stiles' nose wrinkled it.

"Is this... supposed to be flowers or something?" Stiles poked the berries with a damp hand, debating whether to be polite and get a vase or just show it to the trash as he stared at the twisted, gnarled roots, "Usually it's supposed to be, you know... pretty?" Derek rolled his eyes and shoved the plant closer to his face.

"It's ginseng." Derek took Stiles' hand and plopped it, dirt and all, in Stiles' palm and wet dirt spilled onto the his carpet. Stiles face was a mix of confusion and ew, "You said you didn't feel well." Stiles blinked and looked up at Derek.

"Yeah... influenza." Stiles squeezed the roots in his hand. It didn't do anything abnormal; it was fresh and springy, "So... you brought this for me?" Derek narrowed his eyes at him with slight condensation.

"You _are_ the one that said you weren't feeling good. This should help." Derek wiped his dirty hands on his jeans and stuck them in his pockets, "You grind up the root and eat some."

"Raw?" Stiles raised his brow at the plant and Derek rolled his eyes childishly.

"You have the internet, use it." Derek told him and Stiles touched the stem with the berries, watching it wag back and forth in his hand, a small smile creasing his lips.

"I'm surprised you care." Stiles said, unable to keep the awe out of his tone.

"I just don't want you keeling over on me, okay?" Derek turned away, kicking off his muddy sneakers and Stiles still smiled, feeling kind of stupid for it after a moment and he ended up settling the plant in a dirty cocoa mug that he'd used earlier. He dusted off his dirty hands and approached the werewolf. When Derek turned to look at him, Stiles leaned an arm on his chest and kissed Derek's scruffy face.

"I'll get you to admit you care about me one of these days." Stiles determined and Derek made a less angry face. It almost looked like he was going to smile, but he wasn't frowning.

"Yeah, right." Derek sat on Stiles' bed and Stiles was not far behind, siding into Derek's lap and wrapping an arm around Derek's neck while Derek's slightly dirt covered hands slip under his sweatshirt. Stiles sighed into the next kiss, his fingers gripping onto Derek's hair, holding onto him as they sank into each other.


	4. What is Real Anymore?

I have to give credit to my lovely beta Scarllett because she's catching all the booboos I make. This is the chapter you've all been waiting for (And some, dreading). Early post today cause I'll be hanging out with a friend later.

* * *

Stiles parked his jeep next to the black camaro at the Hale house, relieved to see it was finally there. He wasn't sure where Derek had been hiding it. Stiles had checked over several days and there was no sign of anyone. Stiles stepped out of his jeep and looked up at the old decrepit ruins. He'd taken the ginseng root as directed from eHow(.com) and he ignored the bitter taste of the slices. He was indeed feeling like 60 percent better, which was a big difference from when he had the worst case of flu in his life. He was still exhausted in the morning, but after a dose of the root, it pretty much went away. He had decided that very night to just go through and ask Derek if he wanted to do something outside of his room. Like a movie, or grab some lunch. He would ask Derek while he was in his bedroom, but he always got distracted by a hand, or a tongue before he could ask. So he decided to talk to Derek where it wasn't so sexually charged. Not that Stiles minded it being sexually charged, but he... he embarrassed himself by wanting more. And he wanted more with Derek Hale. How messed up was that?

Stiles walked up to the house and the creaking porch gave him away for sure, if not the fact that his jeep had already alerted them of his presence. He wondered briefly if knocking was even plausible at this point because 1. Derek never did and 2. this was technically public property for about 5 years now. Stiles just pushed the door open and there was Derek, looking at him from the doorway to one of the rooms. His brows were drawn together and he looked tense; more tense than he'd seen Derek for a while.

"What?" Derek demanded and Stiles felt that familiar healthy dose of fear settle in his stomach. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it.

"I um... wanted to talk to you." Stiles noted that Derek had found his leather jacket and his looser pants. Shame, Stiles had grown fond of those pants. Derek's eyes narrowed.

"Spit it out, I'm busy." Derek turned and went back into the room he'd been standing in and Stiles blinked. What was this? Dick Derek by day, Sexy Derek by night? Stiles followed, seeing Derek dumping out some things from a duffel bag. The room was in ruins but it sort of looked like it used to be the living room. Stiles decided to play it safe since Derek was in a foul mood. He stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets to keep them warm.

"I wanted to know what you're doing Friday, during day hours." Stiles tried to be casual as he leaned against the door frame and not feel his face heat up or his heart thumping in his chest. Derek froze and he slowly looked over his shoulders at Stiles, eyes strained and looking bewildered, which was a new look on the werewolf.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Derek asked slowly, finally taking a good look at Stiles.

"Well it kind of depends on if I'm going to ask you to go to dinner or to the movies." Stiles mentioned with as much boldness as possible. Derek turned to fully face him.

"That's not even remotely funny, Stiles." Derek told him firmly.

Stiles felt reasonably hurt by that, "It wasn't a joke, I mean if you don't want to go, you just have to say so."

"Why would you even ask me out of the blue like that?"

"Out of the blue?" Stiles frowned, standing straighter, "I don't think asking you out after 3 weeks of booty call is out of the blue." Stiles never thought he'd see Derek look so confused before, his eyebrows were drawn in tight, as if trying to figure out what lie Stiles was telling. Derek looked startled above all else. Derek frowned suddenly and then walked over to Stiles, looming over the teenager. Stiles leaned harder against the door frame, shrinking a few inches.

"Say it again. Slowly." Derek demanded.

"Dude, seriously?" Stiles asked and the unwavering stare made him sigh. He did look up and briefly ponder kissing Derek, but only briefly because he didn't like it when Derek gave him that look, "I don't think..." Stiles took a deep breath, slowing down so he wouldn't have to repeat it again, "Asking you out after having sex for 3 weeks is out of the blue." Derek not only looked confused now but concerned, "Did you hit your head or something today? Like really, really hard?" Stiles tentatively placed a hand on Derek's chest and there wasn't even a warning when Derek crushed his fingers in his own hand and Stiles gasped in pain.

"How are you doing that?" Derek's gaze turned angry.

"Doing what?!" Stiles yanked his hand back and he held his hand to his chest. A few fingers were numb. He pressed them to his mouth. It had been a while since Derek had physically assaulted him.

"How are you lying so well?" Derek glared at him and Stiles looked up at him. What the fuck?

"I'm not lying!" Derek backed up a little when he yelled, looking away as if trying to process something, "What the fuck? Are you just going to pretend nothing happened beyond my room? I just saw you last night! The sex was great if that's what you want to hea-" Derek's hand strategically shoved against Stiles mouth and the back of his head hit the door frame, leaving Stiles light headed. Derek leaned very close to him, nearly nose to nose and Stiles' head whirled with pain and confusion.

"I have NEVER, EVER touched you like that." Derek's teeth clicked with the anger and Stiles could only stare, feeling his throat go dry. Derek drew back, studying Stiles for a moment then he frowned more, if possible, and lean in, taking a deep breath. His steel green eyes slowly widening. What was Derek smelling? Maybe Derek was wondering the same thing, "How... how can you smell like me?" Stiles didn't even bother answering, his mouth covered and all. Stiles' eyes did however follow a movement that came down the stairs, which was Peter. Stiles squirmed in his spot and Derek looked around. Peter had an eyebrow raised at the both of them, his hair slicked back and in his long coat. They did look as though they had been out, which did seem odd at the moment.

"I do believe I've heard the oddest conversation of the year." Peter spoke cautiously, eyes focusing on Stiles.

"Something's not right." Derek's eyes flickered to Stiles and Stiles swallowed, feeling like acid had dripped into his belly. He felt nauseous.

"So I see." Peter went over to Stiles and sniffed briefly. Peter blinked and stood up fully, "Well, that is potent." Peter curled his hand under his own chin and Derek released Stiles' face, "But well..." He looked at Derek ponderously and Derek frowned at him, "You didn't, did you?"

"NO, You know I haven't," Derek bared his teeth and Peter shrugged.

"Just confirming. Smells just like you." Peter's eyes didn't meet his nephew's, instead, he looked at Stiles, "But, Stiles." Peter's hands lifted in a helpless manner, as though not knowing himself, "If you've been seeing Derek for the past 3 weeks, then it's not this Derek." He gestured wavingly to Derek, whose arms were folded. Stiles was slowly taking this in.

"W-what?" Stiles swallowed, holding his head, which throbbed, thank-you-very-much-Derek.

"You see, for the past 2 weeks we've been out looking for Boyd and Erica." Peter explained, ignoring Derek's disapproving gaze, "We just found them yesterday and transported them back to Beacon Hills. And we've been in hiding for more than the past month." Stiles' jaw dropped, eyes closed, taking in a sharp breath. He suddenly felt dizzy. This light headedness was not cause by the small concussion Derek had given him.

"But... But it's been Derek, I know Derek when I see him." Stiles said firmly, because he wasn't stupid. It was Derek. All sour attitude and all. All action and no talk. Roughness on all his edges. Okay, sure, he was actually actively avoiding Scott and being ultra stealthy, but the rest seemed normal, except for the sexing up Stiles part. But Stiles liked that part.

"And when was the last time you saw Derek?" Peter asked.

"Last night." Stiles decidedly did not say exactly what activity they had partaken in, but it was very good sex, "3am."

"We were still on the road to California at that time." Peter informed him slowly, seeming more concerned, tilting his head ever so slightly this way and that way, "Derek was driving." Stiles' mouth opened again, then shut and he held his head in his hands. He could feel his heart thudding against his ribs. The air felt thicker.

"But, the other night and last week..." Stiles felt nausea rising again and he held his stomach.

"We were in Nevada." Peter had a hand held out, as though Stiles looked like he was going to fall and Stiles looked up at Derek who was giving him this look that made him look like he was crazy. Shit.

"Then who's been in my bed?" Stiles asked and it all seemed to hit him like a brick wall. His body got chills and his breathing grew heavier. He could barely breathe. It wasn't Derek. It wasn't Derek? It wasn't Derek and he actually asked out the real Derek? This was so screwed up. So very very screwed up. Who the hell was it if it wasn't Derek? Oh shit, then he liked Derek and Derek still hated him. Fuck, did he even like Derek or the person who looked like Derek. Oh shit...

"Stiles." Peter was close to him, crouching and Stiles realized some time in his freak out he slid down the door frame. His body was trembling and his breaths were short. Peter had a hand rested on his shoulder. Stiles felt his heartbeat in his ears and throat, he thought insanely that it was going to explode from how hard it was beating, "Stiles, it's alright." Peter was speaking softly and calmly, and if Stiles didn't know any better, he actually thought Peter was trying to care. Stiles had the sudden urge to run, just run away, or run home. But what if the other Derek was there. What if this Derek wasn't real either. What was real anymore?

"Stiles." Peter was surprisingly gentle sounding and he urged Stiles up and Stiles found himself sitting on an old musty couch. Peter kept a hand on his shoulder and dragged a stool closer to sit down on across from Stiles. Stiles held his stomach, feeling his body wanting to just convulse and give out. Shit, "Everything's going to be alright."

"It's NOT alright." Stiles said fervently, breathing shallowly and now that he was sitting he could feel how bad he was shaking all over. He started to force himself to breath, like the doctor had taught him to when he'd first been to the hospital after his mom died, "I'm having a panic attack."

Stiles was avoiding looking at Derek, who hadn't moved during the whole thing, not exactly sure what to do in this sort of situation. Stiles didn't even want the sour-fucking-wolf near him right now. He was never going to live this down. He just wanted to die right now, right there. Stiles caught Peter making a sharp arm movement and he mouthed something at the alpha. Derek's feet hesitated but he left the room. Stiles wasn't sure if it helped that Derek left, because after all, he'd left him there with Peter. But Peter wasn't threatening at the moment. Peter moved, sitting beside the boy and started rubbing Stiles between his shoulder blades, making soothing noises.

"You're going to be alright, no one is going to hurt you or think any less of you." Peter was calm and more stable sounding than he probably was in reality. Stiles was tense and he wasn't sure anything would ever be right again. Some stranger had just wormed his way into Stiles' bed and took his virginity. His butt virginity, thank-you-very-much! Peter took one of Stiles' hands in his and Stiles jumped as the werewolf's thumb started making small circles over Stiles' knuckles, "It's alright, it'll all be figured out soon." Peter promised gently, "There is a logical explanation for this and we'll find it, alright? Everything is going to be okay." Stiles noted that Peter's hands were softer than Derek's; or fake-Derek's. Stiles watched the thumb roll back and forth across his pale hand. He still was getting over the influenza, he guessed.

Stiles noted that his breathing was getting easier and his heart wasn't trying to burst out through his ribs so much, "There's no rush, take your time," Peter's hand was warm on his back and Stiles knew those hands could kill men and hunters and he should be more scared of Peter, but it was actually helping. Stiles knew he hadn't said anything for a while either, but he didn't want to. How long had this been going on? Felt like hours. Felt like days. His heart was still thudding against his ribs. "You're going to be okay." Stiles made a breathy sound he wasn't even sure what it meant and his whole body ceased up, going tense once more. Peter's hand on his back stopped. Stiles just wished his dad was there, or his mom... "Stiles, everything is going to be alright." Peter's voice was softer and his hand left Stiles', wiping something wet across his cheek from under his eye, "Shh... Stiles."

"It was all a lie." Stiles sobbed suddenly and Peter's arm drew him in and Stiles didn't fight it, being pulled into the warmth. Stiles pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to hide the tears that flowed without his consent. Peter hushed him gently and cradled Stiles in his arms, speaking soothing lies until Stiles cried himself unconscious.


	5. Derek, You Break Things

"It was all a lie." Stiles' broken sob reached Derek in the hallway. Derek was leaning against the wall near the stairs, his arms folded, looking up at the ceiling. Derek had been compelled earlier to shake Stiles to get more information about what was going on. But he wasn't prepared for Stiles to cry. Derek even covered his ears as Peter started soothing Stiles with the voice of a practiced father.

Was Stiles really this torn up over this? Over him? He wasn't even sure what was going on. Peter also seemed bewildered to what was happening. Apparently a double of Derek had snuck in and slept with Stiles while Derek was absent. Derek closed his eyes, grimacing as Stiles made a choking noise that crawled under his skin and into his chest. Hearing it was bad enough, but sensing the fear and sadness in waves like being drowned in heartache. God, what had this imposter said in his image to get Stiles so attached to him? And apparently had sex with with Stiles in his image. That wasn't RIGHT. Derek gritted his teeth, wanting to tear this fake into pieces. Stiles had to be one of the most annoying persistent people he knew, but he was useful and clever; and he didn't deserve to sound so ruined.

The silence fell like a thick wall of smoke and Derek moved silently into the room. Peter was sitting quietly, looking down at the boy that was half in his lap. Stiles' arms were tucked into his chest, his hoodie hood pulled over his head and there were damp spots. It looked as though he'd been trying to hide as he cried. He was sound asleep now. Peter lifted his head as he slowly rubbed Stiles' shoulder and held up a finger to his lips, signaling silence. Derek drew closer, sitting on the stool Peter had earlier abandoned. He leaned his arms on his knee, leaning closer to Stiles, in his stupid red hoodie. His face looked blotchy and pale and the dark circles under his eyes were hard not to notice. Derek decided to rip his own face from whatever had impersonated him before he mauled it to death.

"Derek," Peter's breath was soft, speaking bellow whispering, "He should sleep with the pack for a bit. They'll help him heal." Peter was staring at him meaningfully and Derek gave a slight nod.

Peter gently gathered the boy in his arms; lethal killing weapons that would have dispatched Stiles months ago. Peter was as silent and steady as carrying a child upstairs and returned within the minute.

"What's going on?" Derek asked as soon as Peter reached the bottom step.

"I have a theory." Peter swiftly went to his laptop and started it up.

"And that is?" Derek followed Peter as his uncle sat in half a chair and Peter paused, glancing at Derek.

"Worried about Stiles?" Peter quirked an eyebrow.

"NO." Derek's teeth snapped sharply and then he drew in a deep breath, "I'm worried about this thing walking around with my face. Now what's the theory?" Peter tapped his fingers on the wood desk top, eyes rolling upward in thought.

"I think... it has been doing this for long term benefits." Peter closed his eyes to piece together all the little bits of information, "Stiles was completely convinced it was you. It even smelled like you. I'm guessing it also acted like you if it was around for 3 weeks."

"What is it after?" Derek asked and Peter pondered until his eyes opened quickly, sitting up more in his seat.

"I think it was getting exactly what it's after." Peter said and started clinking away on his mouse pad, "I remember a story my grandfather," He pointed at Derek, "Your great grand pappy," Back to the laptop, "told us on a hunting trip." Peter spoke in a slightly older, and somehow more cryptic tone as he impersonated 'great grand pappy', "_There is a creature from which even your dreams are not safe, my boy. Creatures that roam the night and your greatest pleasure will be your own demise._" He added a cryptic low key chuckle and glanced at Derek, who was very still. Derek would not admit that it was somehow more terrifying than when Peter was an alpha. Peter cleared his throat, looking back to his laptop, "Grand pappy also thought computers were a fad and that they would go back to carving things in stone. But in the ways of legend, he WAS our source of information. Much like the Argents have their book." the PDF popped up and Peter smiled wryly, "Twisted old dog had quite the devil's streak." He got a look from Derek that told him to hurry up. Peter rolled his eyes and scrolled through the pages, "You have to learn to listen to your elders some day."

"What is it?" Derek stressed and Peter paused on a page that had a picture of a luxurious bed with someone sleeping in it. And there was a transparent gargoyle like thing resting on the human's gut. It was ugly and probably accurate.

"It sounds like an incubus. Or at least, part of an incubus." Peter lightly pointed on the screen to the archaic Latin, "They are spirits that come into ones sleep and have sex in one's dream. They gain energy from it, like you or I eat food."

"You're saying Stiles dreamed it all?" Derek asked and Peter shook his head slowly.

"No, Stiles is too intelligent to mistake it for a dream. He was truly convinced it was you. Flesh and blood you. And plus, an incubus may go unknown for years. It doesn't take that much energy. It's only a spirit. I showed you the incubus because I think what we're dealing with is spawned from an incubus." Peter started typing on his computer with the swiftness of someone half his age and Derek watched over his shoulder, frowning at the information that was loading in on crappy wifi. Derek grimaced at the terrible old drawing that Peter popped up. It reminded of the terrible weasel and wolf pictures that were supposedly werewolves.

"A Cambion." Peter presented with a hand under the picture. Derek studied the image. It was of a naked looking renaissance woman with small boobs and luscious hips, only covered by a sheer strip of cloth, touching some young man's face with small fingers and she held in her hand a plant with roots attached. Peter began to summarize the old text, "Legends tell of a mortal creature born of a human woman and a demon called an incubus. An incubus lays with women, drawing up the image of the person that woman loves and seduces her in her dreams. And if done enough and with some preparation on the incubus' part, they will conceive a child."

"Fascinating." Derek glared at Peter, not wanting a history lesson of where the thing came from. Peter rolled his eyes.

"The cambion is thus, a shape shifter." Peter scrolled down the page, "It can take form of the person it collects essence from. Once they take that person's essence, they have that person's memories, thoughts, and body; and since it has taken from you, and you are a downright prude, I think it was from that snake that bit you last month."

"I'm not a prude." Derek huffed.

"Of course not." Peter said with the slightest bite of patronization, but he did not mock his nephew for long, "Cambion, which is singular and plural, mind you, will then seduce the person who is most attracted to the body they are taking. They can almost sniff it out. Now, here's why." He tapped on the screen which Derek couldn't read anyway because it was in Latin, "The cambion feeds on sexual energy, just like its sire did. It is said that it can eat human foods as well, but they thirst for the energy of their victim. Side effects may include; a weakened state of health, increased mental stress levels, fatigue, physical aches and pains. Sound familiar?" Derek remembered Stiles' weakened body and nodded, "Cambion use this plant, ginseng to help reduce the symptoms and will allow their food source to live longer. And I did smell the hint of the herb on Stiles' breath. Like their sire, they like long term relationships and teenagers are a prime source for a full course buffet."

Peter took a deep breath and continued, "Because taking sexual energy, or any energy that will take away from the victim's bodily functions, they try to keep their victims happy and healthy. And since the cambion takes the form of someone the victim finds attractive, it's very likely that the victim will fall in love with the cambion version of the person. No matter how much of a prick the real person may be." Peter's eyes flickered to Derek for a split second and Derek was more than annoyed with the side banter, "It says that in plain Latin. Not me, I swear." Peter clears his throat, "At the cambion's disposal is of course, shape shifting, taking the memories and desires of its victims, high intellect in most cases, and also a natural drug they produce to help their victims into the mood."

"Drug?" Derek asked, "Like the plant?"

"No, no, it's sort of..." Peter waved his hand abstractly, "Sort of how a poison dart frog is poisonous by eating poisonous insects. Sex is the cambion's food source and its weapon. If their victim isn't in the mood one prick can turn that mood 180."

"So a starved cambion is a weak cambion." Derek concluded, rubbing his chin between his fingers.

"Yes... but good luck finding a starved cambion." Peter said, "It's been feeding from Stiles for 3 weeks, so I'm sure it's built up quite an artillery." Peter gave a wry grimace, appearing concerned, "Stiles concerns me."

"If the cambion is gone, it'll help him get better, won't it?" Derek looked to his uncle and Peter looked up at Derek.

"Not because of the cambion stealing his energy." Peter said and Derek's gaze traveled to the stairs. He almost heard the echo of broken sobs in his ears again and he quickly refocused on the computer screen, "Stiles came here, hoping to court you."

"Then he's more of an idiot than you take him for." Derek spoke through gritted teeth, "The cambion probably did it to him." Peter twiddled his thumbs, looking like he wanted to protest outright but he simmered his words.

"Cambion seek out the person most attracted to the form they take," Peter turned back to the passages, "There is no power in seducing someone who does not have passion for the form they take. Impassioned people have the more vibrant energy." Peter smiled at the screen, tilting the screen back a bit so he could see his nephew when the screen went dark. Derek was listening, "Love can cure a kamina. Love can feed a cambion." Derek snapped the laptop screen shut, leaving some scratches on the top of the plastic.

"He's 16. He's not in love." Derek said drew away from the table, going back to his duffel, knowing they needed washing from the long trip, "How do we kill it."

"The cambion or my brick of a laptop?" Peter asked with raised brow, "Because I think my laptop has just experienced severe trauma." Derek ignored the quip and Peter opened the laptop again to check. Derek glanced towards the staircase and tried to ignore the urge to go check on Stiles... and his pack. His pack of course was more on his mind. Not Stiles, "It doesn't say."

"What do you mean, it doesn't say?" Derek frowned, "There's not another cryptic riddle for you to solve?"

"Well when a cambion is discovered, it usually moves on to the next victim." Peter tapped his chin with his finger, "It's odd, it talks a lot about how intelligent and how well it adapts to its environment. The acting can be flawless because it takes from the memory of its form. Hm..."

"I'll just have to find it, and rip its face off." Derek, eyes wandering back to the stairs again, forgetting about washing his things for now, though he started to pace, becoming anxious.

"It's not suggested," Peter told him, his eyes starting to follow Derek, "Cambion don't just look like you and act like you. It is strong like you, has your memories and is intelligent." Derek made a frustrated noise, still looking at the stairs, "And you shouldn't see him until he's more stable." Derek looked to Peter, realizing what he was doing.

"I wasn't thinking of checking on him." Derek then started looking everywhere but the stairs. Peter stood, closing his laptop gently, remembering that Derek had not been this antsy, even when they got back with injured pack members.

"I meant when he wakes up." Peter told him. Derek stopped, frowning at his uncle.

"Why?" he turned to face Peter.

Peter gave him a well knowing look, "Because obviously he's just had his reality turned upside down and his heart has been stomped on. I don't think he's ready to be sorting out his feeling for the real you right now. It'll only confuse him." It was logical and sound, but Derek hated that it made sense.

"I didn't DO anything." Derek stated, standing straighter.

"Please Derek, this is very delicate and let's face it," Peter pinched his fingers together, as though showing a fine line, "you are not good with delicate things. Running your angry mouth will only hurt him further." Derek visibly gritted his teeth and ground them, "He's hurt and there's nothing you can do to help in this situation."

"Don't remind me," Derek snapped and by passed his uncle to go into the kitchen. He hated to feel useless.


	6. The Little Sugar Jar that Could

I've had a few comments that have warmed my feels so I'm posting tonight and Friday as well. ^_^ Thank you all for loving Peter.

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Stiles woke up surrounded by warmth. He sighed, not opening his eyes for a moment, basking in the warmth. He blearily thought his dad had finally turned the heat up in the house so that he could get over his flu faster because it was warm and toasty all around him.

An arm curled around him more securely and Stiles sighed, rolling over a bit, thinking Derek was there. Though Derek wasn't so much a cuddlier, he was a great heater though. His eyes opened and Derek's skin was really dark in the fading sunlight. Way, way too dark. Oh, Boyd. Huh...

Stiles eyes popped open and he gasped sharply. Okay, not Derek. Boyd grimaced with the sharp sound but his eyes stayed shut, heaving a great breath out. Stiles coughed lightly, morning breath. Stiles looked to his other side, seeing Isaac curled into his other side, his arm curled over Stiles' chest and then there was a head of blonde curls were tucked into Isaac's neck; Erica. And someone was snoring with a hint of a whine and Stiles couldn't see over Boyd as of yet, so he couldn't be sure if anyone else was there.

"Sh."

Stiles looked back to Isaac, whose eyes were open and he had his index finger to his lips. Stiles nodded and Stiles slowly told his body to relax. Isaac still looked sleepy eyed and he didn't bother moving from Erica's grip. And it was clear just who had who.

"How'd I get here?" Stiles' mouth felt dry. He found that they were all huddled on a couple of old mattresses piled together.

"Peter brought you up." Isaac yawned, "You looked wrecked, so he put you here to heal." Stiles wriggled around a little, seeing how loose Boyd's grip was; and he found it was not, at all.

"How come you get the girl?" Stiles asked and Isaac bit down a laugh.

"Yeah right, she has me, and Boyd wasn't going to fight her over me. So he got Jackson." Stiles had to crack a smile and he guessed that was the whining snore that echoed in the room. With what wiggle room he had, he found his cell phone jamming into his hip and pulled it out of his pocket. Nearly 8 in the evening. He'd been there for well over 7 hours and he groaned, seeing lots of messages from Scott and a couple calls from his dad. He was so glad he set it to silent before going to see Derek. Derek had this thing with ringing cell phones, as Scott always told him. Derek...

Stiles locked his phone and put the warm plastic to his lips, remembering the broken feelings of... lots of things. Everything was a mess. One big, hairy, fur covered mess. Starting with the fact that it wasn't Derek he'd been sleeping with for the past few weeks. That fact made numbness spread through him like wild fire, making his mouth feel even dryer.

"You okay?" Isaac broke Stiles out of his head that was spinning into a downward spiral, "You're heart's going like crazy." Even Erica had lifted her head a little, looking over Isaac's shoulder. Oh geez, she looked like a mess, tired eyes, frizzy hair, and pale complexion. Sadly Stiles knew she still looked better than him when he went to the doctor.

Stiles didn't answer and instead, he looked up at the ceiling, telling himself not to get so worked up again. He'd cried in front of PETER of all people. Stiles didn't cry easily; he prided himself in that. But he had been so tired; he felt fractured, maybe even a bit broken.

"Can you get his arm off of me?" Stiles asked and Isaac had to try a couple times to pry Boyd's big fingers out of Stiles' hoodie. Stiles wiggled upwards, the weak floor boards creaked as he got to his feet, making everyone, including Stiles grimace. Stiles got dirty looks from Erica and Jackson, who was behind Boyd after all.

Stiles shrugged and headed towards the door, waving to the pack and Isaac waved back as Boyd rolled over to cuddle Jackson as the group converged in the middle where Stiles had been. Stiles stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking into the flame licked second floor landing, going to the stairs. It was only lit by the dying sun. Creepy.

Stiles tried to ease his way down the stairs and out the door before Derek caught him, but every fire eaten creak that he tried not to make echoed painfully through the whole house. Stiles was working up quite a cursing storm in his head until he got halfway down.

"Stiles." Peter spoke, leaning against the frame of the one room Stiles had tried to talk to Derek in. Stiles got a shiver up his spine because he hadn't seen Peter there when he was trying to sneak out. The guy was like a ninja or something. Now he knew where Derek had gotten it from. Stiles flushed with embarrassment, remembering Peter had been there for his panic attack. God, he hadn't had one for years, it was humiliating.

Peter gave Stiles a gentle smile and waved him closer. Stiles realized the jig was up and he walked down the rest of the stairs normally and they were unfairly quiet. Peter was out of his long coat and had a mug up something hot. Stiles could see the steam in the lingering light of the house.

"You look much better." Peter told him and Stiles shrugged, trying to not look too awkward.

"Yeah, well, compared to what?" Stiles asked, knowing that a few hours ago he was having the worst day of his life, on top of being sick. Peter smiles more.

"Your skin actually has color to it again." Peter said casually and this actually started to sound like a normal conversation to Stiles, "You have that caramel hue that I like in my coffee. Ah, Bisque." Okay, not so normal conversation now. Bordering on creepy. Peter rolled his eyes when he saw Stiles' brows rise, "It's not an innuendo. It's an observation. Would you like some coffee? It's decaf, just so you're warned."

"No, thanks." Stiles looked around, finding the room they'd been in was empty. The hall way was empty. The entrance to the other room next to the stairs was empty, "Where's Derek?"

"Not here," Peter said coolly, looking into his mug, swishing around the rest of the contents, "I thought it was better if you didn't see him." Stiles bit his bottom lip, breathing out sharply. It probably was for the best. He wasn't sure what he would say to Derek anyway. 'Sorry I was sleeping with a double of you because you are the hottest guy in Beacon Hills and your rapier dry wit and your slight pessimistic yet realistic outlook on life is pretty close to my own. And that also turns me on more than I'm comfortable with admitting out loud' didn't quite cut it. But it might make for a good opening to ask him out. Stiles grimaced; wait, not on the agenda anymore. Stiles held his head. He wasn't sure which Derek he was thinking of anymore, "How are you feeling?" Stiles glanced back up to Peter.

"That's a trick question, right?" Stiles asked and Peter shrugged, grasping the mug in both hands.

"I'm inquiring in any way that you feel comfortable. Directed more physically than emotionally." Peter reiterated, drinking the last of his coffee and Stiles tugged his sleeve of his hoodie.

"Better, I think." Stiles looked towards the door and then back up the stairs. Was Derek in the area or was he actually gone? He couldn't be sure, he didn't have wolf senses. Stiles breathed in the scent of musk, mold, and smoke. Funny, he didn't remember the mold or smoke smell on the Derek he slept with. He wondered if the real Derek did. He brushed off the passing thought, "Head's not that fuzzy." He felt his own head and it was warm, not feeling the pressure that had been there earlier. His belly betrayed him and gurgled. "Hungry I guess." Peter chuckled.

"We don't have much." Peter informed him, "But there is still some jerky and bread left if you'd like." Stiles thought hard about it. There was food at home, he was sure. He hadn't been eating much with his stomach churning with influenza. Peter held up his mug, heading into the kitchen, "We also have cream and sugar." Stiles caved.

"I can't stay too long." Stiles followed Peter across the hall. "And I have to let Scott and my dad know I'm alive." Peter set his mug down on the blackened marble table of the kitchen next to the portable coffee maker.

"Go right ahead." Peter told him, going to an igloo cooler on the floor and opening it. Peter wasn't kidding when he said they didn't have much. Half the cooler was filled with melting ice, then there were two jugs of dairy and literally a hunk of meat in the other half. Stiles' mouth fell open as Peter pulled out the cream. The water was tinted pink.

"I think I'll just have mine with sugar." Stiles plopped his butt down stiffly in a charred, but whole, chair, "Lots and lots of sugar." Peter shrugged, getting another mug from the cabinet and blowing out some dust. Luckily the cups and things looked fairly recent, or Stiles would have just said no. No way.

"It's not like it got into the bottle." Peter poured some into his own mug and when Stiles still declined, he shut the igloo lid. Stiles realized there wasn't much option for high quality living here, for any of the werewolves and that in itself was sad. No electricity, no heat, and no running water most likely. Peter pushed the sugar jar over to Stiles and Stiles placed both hands on the cracked white ceramic, which was half blackened from heat and the handle was broken, but there was something almost homey and sad about the letters "SUGAR" on the side. Stiles could almost imagine this being on a kitchen counter 7 years ago, in a normal, fire free kitchen. Stiles lifted the lid with a hollow sound and there was fresh sugar inside. Peter placed a mug of black liquid next to Stiles and the teenager realized he was just staring at the piece of kitchen wear.

"It was salvageable." Peter's voice was soft as he placed a spoon into the sugar crystals. And that was all Peter would say on the matter. Stiles used enough sugar to get past the taste of bitter coffee.

"You may want Scott to come get you." Peter advised, drinking his new cup of coffee.

"I can drive okay." Stiles said automatically and he checked his cell, finally replying to Scott was he was okay and one to his dad to let him know that his cell had died on him. He had a charger in his Jeep and all.

"I'm sure you can." Peter leaned his elbows on the table, continuing to stand, "I just want you with someone who you trust." Peter was giving him a lingering look and Stiles looked up from his cell, mouth parted in surprise.

"I'm not going to hurt myself or nothing." Stiles said quickly, he wasn't THAT heartbroken or depressed. Okay, maybe he wanted to be a bit antisocial after what just happened and never think about Derek Hale ever again but he was not so depressed to hurt himself. Peter chuckled.

"No, I never assumed that you would hurt yourself or that you were weak." Peter waved his mug slightly towards Stiles, "But there is still the matter that there is another Derek out there and Scott also needs to know because we are dealing with something very dangerous, and I'd rather only explain it once to both of you, because I have a theory, and I just need you to confirm a few things." Stiles blinked thoughtfully at Peter, his weariness faltering, "I have a feeling you'd want to answer these without Scott present."

"Oh, um..." Stiles flipped his phone in his hands, thinking, "Sure." Stiles sent Scott a text to come by the Hale house. "Won't take him long to get here."

"That's good." Peter nodded slowly.

From two rooms away, Derek focused his hearing, leaning tight against the wall, unmoving. If everything was silent he could also hear Stiles' steady heartbeat.

"It started 3 weeks ago?" Peter asked and Stiles heartbeat increased a hair.

"Yeah." Stiles was more or less speaking into the coffee mug rather than to Peter.

"May I ask how it started?"

"It just..." Stiles shrugged, feeling like he was back in the councilor's office. Peter didn't rush his questions, waiting for Stiles to continue, "He was just there one night and I don't remember why he said he was there. Then he uh..." Stiles' face reddened as he thought about it, "kissed me and well, touched me."

"It was consensual?"

"Well... yeah." Stiles' insides tightened and Peter raised an eyebrow because he didn't sound sure. Stiles drank a good portion of his coffee because his mouth went dry again, "He uh... he asked me, I said yes, that's consent." He'd been startled as hell that Derek was kissing him and touching him, but he also didn't say no to it.

Peter slowly nodded, "It is. Did you ever think it was not Derek?"

Stiles slid the mug on the counter top between his hands, making Derek and Peter cringe from the squeaky noise. Stiles saw the face Peter was making and stopped, "I didn't think... it was a possibility. I mean, reasonably, look like Derek, act like Derek, growl like Derek; it's Derek." Stiles frowned slightly, thinking back to the other night, "But uh... I guess he didn't dress exactly like him. He kind of avoided Scott. He... He didn't scare me."

"Derek scares you?" Peter smiled a bit.

Stiles shrugged, spinning the mug around in one place, watching the handle go around and around, "In that 'I'm going to rip out your throat with my teeth' kind of way, yeah."

"Understandable. So, you felt different with the other Derek. Did he act different?"

"No." Stiles said and the shrugged a little, "Well... yes and no. I mean, he was still a dick, still never gave a straight answer. But... he didn't make any moves to hurt me." Stiles touched his hand, the one that Derek had crushed and was surprised that it didn't hurt.

"Werewolves can heal humans to a degree." Peter offered as Stiles flexed and inspected his hand, "Isaac and Jackson have been doing a lot of healing on Erica and Boyd, so adding you to the pile wasn't too much trouble." Stiles turned on his flashlight on his phone and looked at his own skin for a moment, which did look like it had more color. It was too dark in the kitchen to tell colors apart now though.

"So, my flu..." Stiles prompted.

"Probably not cured, but you feel better, yes?" Peter asked and Stiles nodded. Why didn't Scott tell him these things? Stiles rubbed his arm self consciously, looking up at Peter.

"So... I started to get sick when I started sleeping... with the other Derek." Stiles volunteered and Peter held his chin, fingers scrubbing through the scruff on his face.

"I think you have a cambion attached to you and it's been taking your energy." Peter explained.

"A cambion?" Stiles asked, never hearing of such a thing.

"Yes, I'll explain in detail when Scott is here, but I think it's been taking your energy. And that could result in a lowered immune system, which would allow illness to follow." Stiles nodded slowly and Peter drank more coffee before asking one more question, "When did you fall in love?"

Stiles froze up, both of his hands on his coffee. Derek grimaced and glared. Why did Peter have to ask THAT question? Stiles pressed his lips together, looking into his coffee mug. He made no move to answer.

"Touchy subject?" Peter drank from his cup.

"Is it that obvious?" Stiles returned softly. His belly was twisting, letting out slow, deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

"Well, given that it's a cambion and that you came here to ask grumpy out. I'd say it's elementary."

Stiles' foot started tapping nervously on the chair rung, "It's stupid, I didn't know it wasn't the real Derek, okay?" His top teeth scraped his bottom lip, "I didn't know it was a big lie." Peter nodded slowly, finally knowing what Stiles had meant earlier. And so did Derek, who still remembered the broken note in the words. Stiles slid his empty mug on the counter towards Peter, "I don't want to talk about it." Peter nodded and poured another cup of coffee for Stiles and started opening a cabinet for the earlier promised bread and preserved meat. Stiles swallowed a swelling in his throat and happily stuffed a stale roll into his mouth when it was offered.

There was the loud sound of someone running up the porch and opening the door as Scott made it to the Hale house. Stiles noted the lack of knocking on Scott's part as well as he munched through half the roll. Peter offered Scott a cup of coffee and Scott was understandably weary of Peter's hospitality. Because Peter was serving coffee to Scott's best friend, and only a few months ago had Peter been stalking his mom. But once Peter started explaining that Derek had been bitten by a suicidal snake over a month ago and that he believes a cambion is impersonating Derek, Scott stole one of the jerky strips from Stiles and sat down to listen to what was going on. However, the real Derek slipped silently from the house, determined to make sure the number of Derek Hales in Beacon Hills was returned to one.


	7. Tip Toe through the Wolf's Bane

Thank you everyone for your lovely comments and faves. I believe we're half way though the story now. Happy 12/21/12 everyone.

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Stiles' room reeked of sex. Derek held his nose as he stood in the teenager's room. Derek wished it smelled bad instead of potent because Derek didn't want to confuse his senses of Stiles. He needed to keep things strictly impersonal and he didn't need this scent in his nasal inventory. Stiles was not allowed to smell _this_ good. Derek breathed out sharply, trying to ignore it. It was obvious that Stiles had not been lying because of his steady heartbeat, but finding evidence of his own scent mixed with Stiles' just made it more real. It just made Derek all the more determined to rip the imposter into pieces.

Derek prowled around, regaining his bearings after he grew used to the scent. The Sheriff wasn't home, most likely out at work. Stiles' computer was on and humming, but asleep. Derek wasn't going to touch anything. He wasn't there to scare the crap out of Stiles this time. He was there to try to find a lead to where ever this cambion was. It smelled like him, but Derek always found his own scent hard to track. Staking out for the cambion here while Peter was explaining things to the boys was easier.

It was dull waiting. Derek sat in the dark, senses open for any sign of odd movement or approaching sound. If he heard Stiles he would bolt, wanting to make sure he didn't confuse Stiles any more with those adolescent hormones. Stiles wasn't in love with him, Derek thought firmly. He was sure this cambion just lied really well and manipulated Stiles into feeling exactly what it wanted Stiles to feel. Derek always pushed Stiles away when he could, so there was no reason for the teenager to feel anything for him. Before today, he thought that he was secure from anyone's rampant emotional attachments.

The sound of someone on the roof made Derek lift his head slightly from sitting in Stiles' computer chair in the corner of the room. He watched with the glow of streetlight, seeing a body that looked strikingly familiar sliding easily into the room. Derek's eyes narrowed, seeing his own solid build in a t-shirt and tight jeans. Derek's claws grew out from his fingers and his muscles tensed. He was barely 10 feet from his mirror image and the other seemed completely unaware. If the fake moved closer, Derek could leap and still have the element of surprise.

His mirror image stopped though, his head tilting, as though sensing something and his hands were on the window sill, poised to close.

"Funny." The low tone of his own voice made Derek perk when red eyes reflected in the window light to look at him, "I didn't think you'd be back so early." Derek bore his teeth and a smirk glinted on his reflection's face. Derek lunged forward and the fake jumped back out the window, surprisingly swift. Derek flew out after him, seeing his double run down the street towards the woods. Derek gave chase.

Peter hadn't been kidding when he said a cambion took the person's body because as fast as Derek was, so was the imposter. He could even run on all fours once they made it to the woods. Derek disliked the length of the chase and the other kept looking back at him, as though making sure Derek was still following. It felt too much like a trap. But Derek was not willing to let this thief to get away, not when Derek had a perfectly fine supply of hot rage to inflict upon his double. The fact that he looked like him did not faze Derek's blood lust.

Finally, the imposter rolled down a hill into a thicket of bushes and when Derek leaped over, his double was there to meet him, slamming him into the weeds and the scent Derek like a truck. Wolfsbane, fresh overgrowths of it. Derek snorted to clear his senses and the double was on him in a flash. Growling and snarling was only the beginning of the myriad of sounds that erupted from the grove as they tore into one another. Blood flew from both Dereks and when they both broke apart they were panting, torn to the bone and both transformed, circling each other. Both were also weakened by the wolfsbane.

"Feeling sleepy yet?" the fake jeered with a smirk, one eye closed because there was so much blood flowing into it. Derek rolled his neck and a few resounding cracks filled the stirred air and he popped his jaw back into place with his knuckles and spat out blood onto the purple peddles.

"Don't sound so cocky." Derek warned, "If you have my body, you're weakened too." the fake's smirk didn't falter. Both of their wounds were slowed to heal, the wolfsbane pollen covered both of them. Derek coughed, hating to admit that this was rather clever for some sex demon. The cambion nodded his head slightly to the side with a small shrug, as though agreeing on the theory. He looked surprisingly calm for one that had blood running down his neck.

"Well yes, I feel rather nauseous, actually." the fake admitted, "And light headed, as though as this burning sensation in my throat. Can you taste it?" the cambion ran his finger pads down his throat, right where Derek felt the burn as well, "Well worth it to get you down to a manageable level." Derek growled, eyes flaring. He decided to finish this fast and get out before he breathed anymore of the dizzying smell. Fighting in this patch was not to his advantage. The cambion was more bloody than he was, closer to death, Derek was sure.

The cambion dodged his lunge and Derek felt claws in his back as another close combat struggle ensued, bringing both closer to their limits.

Then the cambion broke off, starting to keep his distance from the real Derek, who snarled. Derek's vision was blurring and the cambion was also stumbling, only keeping upright by finding a tree and digging its claws into it. Derek coughed up blood, slightly blackened because his body was not coping well and he fell to his knees.

The cambion gasped and coughed out a laugh. Derek looked up, wondering how the hell a dying creature could sound so cheerful, "Oh, oh god, the look on your face. You think you've made some progress?" the fake slid down the tree, "foolish puppy, do you even know what you're dealing with?" the cambion's skin rippled and grew smaller as Derek blinked, trying to continue seeing, but his eyes just wouldn't focus, "Unlike you, I have another body to change into." Derek heard leaves rustle to his left and Derek's claws reached out, but the hand was stomped upon.

The voice was higher pitched than his own. It sounded familiar, "Easy sourwolf. We're going to have some fun..." Derek's body disobeyed him, muscles refusing to move for him, vision going dark.


	8. Black Blood

Shh, no body noticed I didn't post yesterday *ninja posts chapter*

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Derek woke up with a sharp pain to his ribs and growled angrily before opening his blazing red alpha eyes. Derek was upright against warmed metal and he looked into his own cocky smirk. The cambion, in his mirror image body again.

"Ah, awake?" the cambion casually drew his claws from Derek's bare side and Derek growled directly at his imposter. The cambion was completely healed from their fight and Derek could feel everything was in working order for his body as well. The cambion's claws were retracted and the fingers were licked clean of blood. Derek tried yanking his arm forward to slit the throat of his double, but it only rattled against the steel bars he was shackled to. Derek glared at the familiar surroundings. Fuck, this was where Kate decided to torture him and he was stripped naked, the cambion didn't even let Derek keep his underwear. Both his arms were shacked above his head and his ankles were chained near the floor so he as eye level with his own image. He hated it, "Good, I was starting to get bored." The cambion dragged a finger down Derek's jaw and Derek jerked to bite, but he missed and the cambion laughed.

"Oh a biter, biter." The cambion had dropped all acts of being Derek and wagged his finger at him, knowingly it was well out of reach of Derek's mouth, "I know you have no attraction for yourself, and that's okay." He smirked, folding his arms and looked around the place, "I found this in your memory banks and it seemed secure enough. Enough to keep a werewolf caged up for a while."

"I'm going to skin you alive." Derek's low growl echoed and he yanked at his bonds, the steal creaking under the strain.

"Oh, I know you want to. After all, I did take your target from you." The cambion curled a finger under his own chin, tilting his head to the side, "He was a pure virgin in every sense, you know. Inexperienced kisses and timing."

"I don't care about that!" Derek snarled quickly and the cambion chuckled.

"No use lying to me Derek, I took your memories. Your thoughts and emotions are an open book to me. Honestly, it was all too easy to take him. I just waltzed right in and it flowed like a brook." He lifted his hands, smiling, "Take away your apprehension to be hurt again and with a little convincing and romance, he fell willingly into my arms. You have this crude, non-flowery way about things, but Stiles really seemed to like that about you. He likes it a little commanding and rough. It's very sexy." He laughed as Derek was trying to get enough leverage to break the chains.

"So angry. Always so angry." the cambion walked a few steps away and pulled his torn and blood dried shirt over his head, "Do you know how sensitive he is? I don't even have to drug him after the first time. He's so willing and very sexual. Like a little minx." The skin rippled on the creature, turning paler and the hair shorter. Derek's eyes widened as he watched, "He just wants it so bad, you know? He wants to be touched and stroked, and held." The bulk of hard trained muscle reduced and the skin paled in the light. Freckle spotted skin was clean and unmarked turned back to him, eying Derek with hungry eyes. The cambion was Stiles now. Derek's blood ran cold.

Stiles walked towards him, the pants hanging low on his skinny hips and he smiled up at Derek, "He wants love. He wants your love, Derek. But you're too scared to give it."

"Change back!" Derek barked, not so much angry anymore and Stiles laughed.

"Oh, I didn't expect your reaction to be so strong either. Look at this." Stiles smiled gently, a flash of teeth hinting from his lips, "You smell me, don't you. You smell me, completely turned on by the thought of you fucking me." Derek growled and his legs pulled to kick, but it only ended in an unintentional hip thrust. Stiles, the cambion, went right up to Derek and his fingers, his thin, spidery fingers cupped his cock and pressed against it gently, kissing his hard stomach. Derek growled, but it was less vicious, more warning. He tried to think of anything but what he was thinking at that moment. He closed his eyes, imagining Peter being a know-it-all or one of his pack pissing him off. Scott being stupid was always a good turn off.

"Mm, I see this huge cock that wants to come out and play." Stiles said in a sing-song-voice and Derek groaned because he could completely see Stiles doing such a ridiculous thing. "Derek." The voice was soft now and Derek dared to open his eyes, Stiles looking up at him from his belly, lips apart and slightly damp, "Do you know how many nights I've thought about you coming into my room at night and sliding into bed with me? Sliding your cock into me and waking me up with a good hard fuck?" Derek shuttered and his cock betrayed him.

"I hate you." Derek grunted and those thin fingers curled around his cock, like it was some sort of handle or plaything, "lying bastard..."

"If only I could be so creative." Stiles purred, "He has all kinds of fantasies with you. Some are deliciously dirty. Some are naively sweet." the cambion stood back and wiggled the jeans off, not even needing to unbutton them, Stiles was so skinny compared to Derek, "Look at you, so pent up. Sure a few short romp with a few women purged your physical need through the years, but it's not really what you wanted. You wolves crave a good mate. You throw all your eggs into one basket. You give your all." He turned, leaning the back of his head on Derek's chest, looking up at him. Derek was in range to bite, but he didn't move, "Stiles more than meets your quota for a mate, doesn't he, Derek?" Derek bucked his body, shoving the cambion away from him, but Stiles regained his footing gracefully; more so than the real Stiles would.

"Now that is some serious hip action." Stiles grinned, walking close again, "I'd like to see more of that." He leaned closer, whispering, "Inside me." Derek's shackles rattled and Stiles stepped back, new fury mixed with arousal drove Derek.

"I'm going to kill you!" Derek yelled, almost bending the bar that held him in place.

"No, no," Stiles' fingers splayed over Derek's pecs, the cambion was infuriatingly calm, "You're going to fuck me."

"I'm going, to, kill, you." Derek growled between his sharpening teeth and Stiles chuckled.

"You would have bitten my brains out already if you were going to do it." Stiles ran his fingers lightly over Derek's abs and to his hip line, a thoughtful look on his face, his lips slightly puckered like Stiles often did, "It's startling how much you like humans, especially this one. I can see you don't even want to bite his image. I can fully understand why you would want to kill your own image though. Your whole self-loathing attitude is very depressing sometimes." Derek bared his teeth, showing his contempt for the small talk.

The cambion shrugged and rubbed his fingers over Derek's stomach, "I for one love werewolf lovers. They always react so strongly to my drug and their systems treat it like adrenaline." He rested all 5 digits of his hand on Derek's stomach and Derek jumped when he felt several sharp pricks in his skin, "One finger can arouse a full grown human, even ones who have dysfunctions. 3 can send a human into a desperate state of arousal, so much is can hurt. And 5, well, I only use 5 on you big boys." He patted Derek's chest and Derek jerked, feeling the pat thud through him like a drum and his body was already flushing from the heat that spread from the pricks. "After all, only things like you can heal fast enough to keep you from keeling over from that much."

"F-fuck..." Derek tried to curl back but his body was restrained and he could only arch his back and yank hard on the chains above him. It was too hot, his skin actually felt singed. Stiles swiveled on his toes and walked over to the table where the electrocution equipment used to be and Stiles picked up a bottle and waved it back and forth with a devious glint on his face. Lube, great, Derek rolled his eyes, huffing out a breath. But what caught Derek embarrassed was that Stiles flicked open the cap and used the lubrication to prepare himself, right in front of Derek.

Derek shut his eyes, hearing his own pulse in his ears and his body on the edge of something. Derek felt control being ripped from him and Derek focused on his anchor, trying to get angry. Because this thing took Stiles and did exactly what Kate had done to him. And this thing had taken his face and did who knows what with his image. And it looked like Stiles now and it wanted to take advantage of him, of his immature affections for someone who wasn't even out of high school yet. Anger was good, anger kept his mind in place. Transforming now would not be a bad thing.

When Derek thought the anchor was actually working and he opened red eyes to glare, but Stiles was right there, looking at him. Stiles smiled at him sweetly and pressed a whole palm to his belly, dragging it up Derek's chest. All the anger and rage dissipated in one touch like shattering glass and arousal hit him in the gut.

"Shh, don't fight it." Stiles whispered, standing on his toes, lips close to Derek's. Derek's eyes drifted up because Stiles had the key and slipped it into the key hole, which would pop both of his cuffs. And then his steel green eyes focused back on Stiles' lips. The ones that made all those fascinating shapes and expressions. The ones that were slightly parted in effort to twist the key.

The metal popped open both his wrists and Stiles was immediately in the werewolf's grip by his shoulders and pressed into the bite of the cold steel bars. But there was no fear in those brown eyes now, only knowing acceptance. Derek snarled and leaned in, finally giving in to kissing the soft and pliable lips. Stiles' hands gripped Derek's shoulders and he kissed back, strong and eager. Shit, He was just as Derek wanted him to be.

The chains connecting Derek's ankles were long enough to move within a couple feet and it was plenty of room to throw Stiles down on all fours as the passion mounted. Stiles only looked at him eagerly over his shoulder and spread his knees invitingly, fingers digging into the cement floor, back sloped downward. The heat in Derek's blood made him move fast, shoving his cock deep into Stiles and there was a small whimper and gasp, but no protest. They rutted like animals, all vigor, no finesse. The urgency in Derek's body wouldn't settle for anything else. He was pressing Stiles flat on the ground and occasionally Derek wondered if he was fracturing bone, but the human seemed to be able to take it.

The burst didn't last forever and Derek groaned loudly, cumming hard in the body under him. The climax took the edge off Derek's foggy head, but he was far from sober. His senses picked up Stiles and he buried his nose in the soft skin, closing his eyes. He wanted a mate. He wanted Stiles as a mate. He wanted this. He wanted Stiles. He wanted Stiles in his pack. Like only werewolf mates could be...

Derek tasted blood and his eyes opened, Stiles' yell echoing off the brick walls of the room. Derek's wolf teeth retracted and Stiles scrambled from under him. Stiles, no wait, the cambion was pissed. Seeing fury on Stiles' face was uglier than usual and Derek rolled onto his back, breathing hard, feeling weak from the cambion taking his energy. He was cold. That unnatural, unable to warm up cold. The cambion's heartbeat was racing, blood squeezing between the fingers on his shoulder.

"You fucking BIT me!" Stiles spat and looked like he was going to move to kick him but he never followed through, probably realizing that Stiles' body didn't have the strength to hurt Derek, even in this case. He scoffed, lifting his hand and checking it. It was not one to rip flesh, it was a bite to change and Derek groaned, hating himself for hallucinating that it was really Stiles. The cambion sneered, shaking his head, "I guess you really do want him to be part of your pack, don't you? Mm, what a..." He stopped and coughed and Derek opened his eyes, focusing on Stiles. He crouched again and leaned over a box, looking like he was going to throw up. What came up was black tar like substance and Stiles retched, crouching and shaking. Derek's eyes widened, seeing the bite was starting to ooze black blood.

"This body..." The cambion looked at Derek, Stiles' eyes crying blood, "Did you know... no... Shit, Shit!" Derek could only writhe a bit on the ground, trying to turn back onto his belly, so he could push himself up. So he could kill it. So he could kill this thing that wasn't Stiles. Before it could change again, "I JUST changed, you bastard!" Stiles gripped his head groaning in pain and falling to his knees, closing his eyes, focusing. Derek got to his arms, then his knees. He was in reach. He could lunge forward, finish the job...

But he still saw Stiles there, choking on black bile, the body trying to heal but rejecting the gift. Rejecting the bite. He'd never seen it before. He couldn't move past getting to his knees. His mind couldn't unsee that it was Stiles.

The cambion gasped suddenly and rippled, as if taking new life. It grew and darkened, becoming larger, more muscular, and breathing, still drooling black sludge was Derek's own form again. Derek's eyes reddened. He could kill that image just fine, but the cambion's eyes snapped open and the fist was like a cannon ball to Derek's jaw, throwing him back. Derek slammed back into the steel bars, sudden jolts of pain shooting through his still hypersensitive body. Derek strained to look up and it was morbid to see black rivers of blood and bile run down his own reflection. The cambion clenched its fist and lunged forward, following through with the previous delayed kick to the stomach. Derek spat a painful sound out and gasped for breath. He heard a few snapped ribs at least, maybe some organ damage. He rolled over with labored breath, curling his arms over his stomach.

"Fucking little prude." The cambion wiped his mouth as though that was the dirtiest thing in the world. Which to a cambion it probably was, "It's not easy switching forms all the time. It takes a lot of energy! And now I've used up all mine, including the amount you gave me." Derek couldn't help but smirk. Good, he was glad he forced the cambion to use up his reserves. He got a kick to his back and he swore he heard a crunch and he let out a weak cry of pain. Shit. He wasn't healing like he should, "Don't fucking LAUGH at me. No one laughs at me! I'll kill you!" And that was the more appropriate expression Derek wanted to see on his own face. Pure, heartless anger.

The cambion took a deep breath to calm itself and it rubbed its head, the wound on the shoulder was already starting to heal. The black blood was wiped away with the cambion's old shirt and then tossed aside, "Looks like I'll have to visit Stiles again to refuel. Won't take too much to convince him I'm you." The cambion Smiled, "And feeding from him will reset the DNA I have for him. Mm, shame he can never be in your pack." Derek squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face into the dirt and cement, his jaw clenched tight. Shit... shit...

The cambion locked him up, re-lacing the cuffs for his hands lower, and chaining him on the floor and he pressed Derek's face into the floor, grinding Derek's jaw painfully, "Once I reset I'll come back and feed from you. I don't throw away good food. I'll just bring a muzzle next time." And he stood up and walked to the metal door, throwing Derek a smirk, "Don't worry Derek, I'll take really good care of everyone." And with that, he slammed the door shut; leaving Derek with a slow and painful recovery.


	9. Chocolate Chip Mint Mocha

Thank you everyone for all the lovely comments.

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Stiles sat down on his bed after Scott finally left; after hanging out for long after his curfew just to make sure Stiles was alright. Peter had told them about the cambion and everything seemed to match up as he said; especially when the fact of the ginseng was brought up. That part hit Stiles a little harder than he thought it would. Sure, the stupid cambion wanted him healthy, to feed from him. He felt like a complete idiot. Scott knew that it wasn't Derek now, but Stiles couldn't tell if it was good or bad. They really didn't talk about Stiles falling for a Derek-double. They talked more about trying to defend against it. Scott offered that they could get some mountain ash from Deaton in the morning and Stiles nodded numbly, only because he would agree to any solution at the moment. He honestly just wanted the chocolate chip mint mocha ice cream that he'd picked up from the gas station over 2 hours ago and not share it with Scott or his dad. Because he felt like crap and he didn't think he could sleep comfortably, knowing there was something out there that still wanted to actively eat him.

The fact that earlier when he'd walked into his room and found his window wide open as well as his chair flung into his bed told him something had been there earlier. He guessed it was the fake Derek, or maybe the real Derek; especially because not many other creatures snuck into his room that way. And nothing was stolen. Stiles had shut and locked the window and Scott volunteered to stay until Stiles felt comfortable to sleep.

Stiles still didn't feel comfortable to sleep, but he'd told Scott he was just so he could have some alone time. Scott looked at him wearily because of the lie, but complied, telling Stiles to call him or text him whenever something came up, and that he'd be there tomorrow. Stiles later rolled his eyes, thinking that Scott was a much better friend when he was single.

So, pint of ice cream in one hand and spoon in the other, Stiles sucked down half the contents as he thought about everything. More importantly, he could theorize on the state his room had been in before he'd gotten there. It was better than thinking about how much Derek did not like him.

Stiles closed his eyes, gnawing on the rubbery plastic spoon. His window had been open, as though something had left in a hurry, and his chair was flung, resting on his bed, like something had shoved it away. He wouldn't put it past Derek to come into his room illegally. So... could Derek have gone looking for the cambion on his own? It was likely. Derek's pack was laid up from their trip and Peter was playing calm collected pack-sitter. Plus the cambion was impersonating Derek, which Stiles could guess would be a personal issue with Derek. And starting in Stiles' room was a good start if Derek knew the cambion had been there.

So, what if they met in Stiles' room? They obviously hadn't clashed claws here, or he was sure his precious computer would be broken and there would be blood. Because Derek always tended to bleed everywhere. But then what? They ran? Who was chasing who? Well, Derek was probably the aggressor, having been hunting the cambion. Stiles frowned because that was all he could tell. Did Derek find it and kill it? That was one likely scenario. And if he didn't...

There was a tap on Stiles' window and Stiles jumped, eyes snapping open. He looked up and saw a dark figure in the window. Derek. Stiles felt his body tense, feeling lumps in his belly and throat that were not caused by an ice cream induced coma. Derek's finger made the glass rattle again and Stiles slowly, stiffly got up, brows lowering and he wiped his sticky fingers on his shirt. He put his ice cream on his messy desk and Stiles stared at the obvious blood stains on his once white shirt. Derek at least looked annoyed. And he was wearing the leather jacket and pants from earlier.

"Open." Derek mouthed

Stiles went over to the window, "Didn't Peter say you were going to leave me alone for a while?" He looked for any sign of confusion but Derek just looked more annoyed.

"Open or I'll break the window and cut your throat." was the next mouthed words, along with hand motions that were pretty convincing. Stiles weighed the option of making a cambion-Derek or just Derek wait outside when he obviously had the strength go forth with his plans. Stiles flicked the lock open and stepped back. Derek opened the window.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked wearily and backed up even more when Derek stepped in and Stiles grimaced with all the blood. It looked like there had been an all-out war.

"Just wanted to let you know your cambion problem has been taken care of." Derek said and he closed the window after himself. Stiles felt a tingle up his spine. Derek coming forth with an explanation? Now that was weird. Stiles took another step back from Derek. Derek's eyes were on him, watching his movements.

"Yeah? Did you kill it?" Stiles asked.

"Yes." Derek stepped closer and Stiles hackles tingled. Okay, this was scaring him more than normal Derek, because normal Derek didn't have that hungry look in his eyes. Real Derek had this 'Go away' vibe going all the time.

"Stop." Stiles said and Derek cocked his head to the side, both feet resting in the carpet. Stiles was well out of reach. Stiles' phone vibrated in his pocket and Derek raised an eyebrow. It felt tense, like a stand off, "Where's Derek?" The corner of Derek's mouth twitched up and he shook his head.

"What do you mean, 'where's Derek'?" Derek gestured to himself, signaling his own presents, but Stiles shook his head.

"No, you're not Derek. Derek has no reason to be here right now." Stiles lifted a finger accusingly, even angrily, "If Derek did kill the cambion he'd go right back to his pack. He has to protect them..." There was a moment where Stiles hoped he was both wrong and right because Derek was silent. Then finally Derek sighed, shoulders dropping.

"This had been a really good gig too." Derek, or rather, the cambion said in Derek's voice and he lifted his hand, fingers curling and a small, white needle grew out from three of his fingers, "But I can always get my fix from you another way." Derek's eyes glinted red and he smirked. Stiles stumbled back, reaching for the door to his room, "No time for play, Stiles. I don't have the time." The cambion moved forward and Stiles flung open his door, hoping to run out; he honestly had no other thought but run, even though he logically knew he couldn't out run a werewolf.

But Stiles was bumped back, running into Scott, who was at his door, his cell phone in hand. Stiles looked up from the ground, having been knocked onto his butt, "You didn't answer." Scott told him and Stiles pointed to the cambion, who had stopped when he saw Scott.

"It's not Derek." Stiles said quickly; suddenly really, really glad that Scott had lingered outside before going home. The cambion seemed surprised. Scott's yellow gaze fixated on the cambion and he leapt for it, both of them crashing into the floor and Stiles cringed, very glad his dad wasn't there or he would not have a good time explaining why Derek Hale was there and Scott was fighting him. Claws and fangs came out and Stiles looked around frantically for something he could do to help, but what could he do but watch and hope that Derek-double was weaker than regular Derek because Scott was not stronger than the real Derek. Not in terms of muscle in any case.

The brawl was short but violent and Stiles couldn't tear his eyes away from the blood spatters that hit his carpet or unhear the wolf snarls that came from them. The next thing Stiles knew, Scott was kicked away and into Stiles' wall, giving the cambion enough time to shove the window up and jump out in one movement. Scott was on his feet moments later and lunged to the window, snarling with half his body hanging out, like an over zealous, but loyal guard dog. Scott did not chase him, but he made sure the cambion was running away. Scott pulled himself back in and took a deep breath, getting a grip on his wolf as he transformed back into human.

"Are you okay?" Scott looked back to Stiles and Stiles nodded numbly, his heart feeling like it was going to leap out of its chest. More than anything, Stiles was feeling relief that the cambion couldn't sink those needles into him. He guessed that was where the drug was that Peter had talked about.

"You're my hero." Stiles gushed, a slow grin spreading on his face, "Oh my god, that was so cool. Coming to the rescue all last minute like that. And you say you're not like Batman..." Stiles wanted to hug Scott, really bad, but blood, "You're soaked..." Scott looked down at himself.

"Most of it's not mine." Scott determined after a minute and found several claw marks along his chest and back that were not healing that quickly, "Are you sure that wasn't Derek? It feels like his claws..."

"Peter said it takes what ever powers Derek has too." Stiles reminded him. Scott resisted the urge to lick one wound on his one arm and he went to the bathroom to get some peroxide so he didn't get infected until it healed.

"Well he doesn't fight like Derek." Scott announced from the bathroom and Stiles grimaced from the blood all over his room. Stiles grabbed a shirt and scrubbed up one particularly large puddle where the werewolves had been fighting. Maybe he could buy a rug before his dad saw his room again. Scott entered back into the room sans bloody and torn shirt, wiping down his last wound with a pink tinted cotton ball and finding Stiles was re-locking his window, "Just because it has Derek's memories and body doesn't mean it knows how to be Derek."

"Yeah, it can act, but that's about it." Stiles looked to his friend; his mouth tight and his face contorted in a serious fashion, "It was wearing Derek's clothes though." Scott blinked and borrowed one of Stiles' clean shirts. Scott palmed the back of his neck before he pulled the shirt over his head. His nape felt hot.

"So...?" Scott didn't seem to get the significance.

"SO, it means he took Derek's clothes. Derek was wearing that jacket earlier. I seriously doubt the cambion asked Derek nicely for his clothes." Stiles jogged out of his room and Scott quickly followed. "He was covered in blood earlier when he tapped on my window, so Derek must have fought him and lost." Stiles ran to his Jeep in the dark and Scott skidded to a halt on the Stilinski porch.

"Stiles, where are you going?" Scott cocked his head, wondering if Stiles was going to chase the cambion in his jeep.

Stiles was fishing for his keys in his pocket and he stopped at his door, "To rescue Derek." Stiles got out his key and stopped, realizing something, "Um... crap, is he even alive?" Stiles banged his head against his window, fear flooding his veins; more so than when Derek threatened to rip off his head or his throat out. Because what if the cambion had killed Derek and he never got to see him again? Stiles shut his eyes tightly, fingers turning cold because he was gripping his keys so tight, "I don't even know where he'd be if he was alive." Scott closed the door to Stiles' house and he walked over to his friend. Scott rested a hand on Stiles' stiff shoulder, peeking to see Stiles' face and giving him a small, reassuring smile.

"Come on, do you really think Derek was killed by something like that?" Scott asked and Stiles took a deep breath to get a grip, "Come on, he's been shot by magic bullets and survived. And stabbed through the spine by an alpha, huh? I'm sure he's alive. I doubt something like a sex demon can kill him." Stiles smiled wryly, leaning back from his car.

"You're right. You're right." Stiles repeated it more for himself. Derek was a survivor. He had to be alive. Stiles looked at Scott, "But where could he be? I mean, if Derek's alive, it would have to be a place that can hold him." Scott shrugged.

"I'm not sure where it would take him." Scott shrugged and Stiles held his head, thinking about how the cambion was trying to do all of the things that Derek did.

"Where would Derek take Derek?" Stiles asked and Scott thought hard and remembered, snapping his fingers, gaining Stiles' full attention.

"I think I know a place that can hold Derek." Scott said and ran around to the passenger side of Stiles' jeep. Stiles perked up and opened his door, climbing in with his friend. "the Argents kept him in this underground... place." Stiles wasn't in the mood to press Scott about his lack of creative vocabulary, it would only delay them.

"Show me where." Stiles turned the key in the ignition and the jeep hummed to life, "And this time, I'm Batman."

"Uh, sure." Scott was mixed between rolling his eyes and giving Stiles a weird look. Scott directed the way and Stiles really, really, hoped that Derek was there.

* * *

God Stiles, don't waste food *eats remaining ice cream*


	10. Bluff

Now where'd that cambion get to...

* * *

The cambion ran between the trees of the woods, only slowing when he was miles ahead and he gritted his teeth, watching the claw marks on his chest knit themselves back together. His teeth gritted together and he started towards the place where the fire had burned down the house, following familiar trees that Derek knew. He had to be more cautious. He didn't have enough power to transform, and his resources were dwindling. All he had was Derek's strength and the cambion had his intelligence to wiggle another meal out of someone.

The pack. The cambion remembered a blonde girl that had considerable lust for Derek. It was nothing like Stiles' passion, but it would do. It could give him enough power to change into someone more desirable. Someone less dangerous to be around. Damn Derek for biting his back up body. He'd used up a lot of energy just transforming so much that day. Changing once or twice was manageable, but nearly dying and then changing again used everything.

The cambion looked at his hands, which were shaking and his belly retracted in hunger. 5 more. He had 5 more full doses of his drug. The cambion's hand tightened into a fist and he snarled. He would have to take advantage of the weakened pack. An easy meal awaited him just a mile more into the woods. All he had to do is lure the girl away.

Reaching the Hale house at a jog, the cambion entered, trying to be as casual as one could be with blood stains covering him in streaks and splatters. It was quiet. The cambion looked into every room he passed before he walked up the stairs. This would be simple. Prick the girl, lead her out, and find a cozy place, maybe that old train station that Derek was fond of.

The cambion reached the second floor landing and witnessed a glow from the room he sought. He frowned and walked to the door frame. There was the pack, Erica, Isaac, Jackson, and Boyd, curled up, looking near complete recovery. And then there was Peter who sat across the room, sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall. Peter's laptop was open in the resurrected man's lap and he was staring at something.

"Welcome." Peter didn't even glance up, the sound of some typing filling the air. The cambion swallowed and inwardly grimaced. He couldn't rely on Derek's memories for this. Peter was enigmatic, even to Derek who had known him for so long. The cambion decided to stay silent, his hand leaning up against the door frame, his healed muscles straining only a little. Finally, Peter closed the laptop, his blue eyes glinting from the screen light as it closed. Peter looked him up and down. "You look as though you've been in a fight or two."

"You should sleep, you haven't slept for days." The cambion said and Peter smiled lightly.

"I would, but... I have to wait for the alpha to return." Peter knitted his fingers together and the cambion swallowed. How the hell was everyone seeing through him right now?

"How could you tell?" The cambion asked and Peter stood, dusting himself off and brandishing his claws.

"You just told me. Just now." Peter smiled in the dark and 4 other pairs of eyes started to glow from the mattresses. The cambion only had a moment to feel like a complete idiot before the pack attacked.


	11. Drugs and Sex

I do believe this is the chapter you've all been waiting for. :D Thank you for all the lovely inquiries and comments.

* * *

Stiles parked his jeep at the entrance of the chambers that the Argents had used to trap Derek and broke inside with Scott's werewolf strength. The car ride felt long and Scott had been growing tense and was rubbing his neck and rocking back and forth. And now he was agitated and when they made it to the giant steel door, he tore the lock off without a word. Stiles was right behind Scott with raised eyebrow.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked, "You seem tense."

"I don't feel right." Scott admitted, holding his head, a flush covering his cheeks, and he was a little embarrassed to say why. Stiles did a double take, seeing red welts on Scott's neck after Scott scratched them.

"Did fake Derek touch you?" Stiles asked, "Like a sting?" Scott nodded slowly, feeling slightly dizzy.

"I uh... keep thinking of... Allison and..." He stopped there, grimacing in what he was about to say. He omitted the second name in his mind, "I shouldn't even be thinking these kinds of things..."

"Yeah, that would be the aphrodisiac." Stiles really hoped Scott didn't start humping him. That would be awkward.

"Afro-what?" Scott asked and Stiles held his head.

"Do you watch anything educational? Ever? Animal planet? Discovery?" Stiles gripped the air, imagining it was Scott's brain, "Come on Scott..." Stiles shoved at the heavy door and it slowly started to move, "Help me with this thing..." Scott helped, pulling it open and he breathed and then scrambled back, covering his nose, eyes wide.

"Holy shit!" Scott's back found the wall in the hall and nearly tripped over some ruined tools and crates. Stiles totally had deja vu from when Scott had discovered the smell of Derek in his room

"What?" Stiles asked, looking at Scott. He hadn't even looked in the room yet, Scott concerned him more at the moment. Scott looked sick.

"Oh god, it's Derek." Scott's voice was nasally because he kept his nose pinched and sounded grossed out beyond reason, "It's all Derek. It's... fuck..." Stiles peeked in the room and the only thing he saw in there was Derek, naked, and laying on the ground on his back. Arching and writhing, yanking at the chains. Stiles gulped, his heart thudding had against his ribs. Derek was HARD and his skin flushed. Oh god, the cambion hadn't exaggerated anything. At least he understood what Scott had smelled, even Stiles could smell it, and he was human. It smelled like Derek; a musky, sweaty smell that Stiles had smelled before. Or at least he had with the cambion.

Stiles took a deep breath to steady himself and he walked closer to Derek. The alpha's wrists were cuffed together and it was red with smeared blood from yanking the skin raw and he was filthy, having been sweating and rolling in the dirt. Derek's wide eyes turned up to Stiles, a clouded but clearly pained expression on his face. Heavy panting and the occasional groan of pain echoed in the room. Stiles hated seeing the proud and angry sour wolf reduced to some pathetic pained man on the ground.

"Scott," Stiles looked back to his friend and Scott made some noise of acknowledgment. He doubted that Scott would come in, and he doubted Scott was attracted to Derek with the reaction he had. It was a bit relief, "Shut the door."

"Are you crazy!?" Scott's head popped came in line to where Stiles could see him, "Just leave him alone, give him some private time, will you?!"

"That's not going to help." Stiles bit his lips, "He's been drugged. He needs to... you know, release it. Through sex." Scott was flabbergasted if Stiles ever had to pick the word for it, "Just... just shut the door, okay? I'm going to try to help him."

"S-Stiles." Scott's voice did a weird squeaky thing.

"You can shut it or you can watch!" Stiles finally snapped and the door was closed a moment later. Stiles took another calming breath, cautiously reaching down and touching the arms that were restrained, seeing what Derek's move would be. Derek's hands jerked and he whimpered in a pitiful way.

"Jesus, how long have you been like this?" Stiles asked and Derek's eyes were focused on him and he looked like he wanted to speak with his eyes because nothing intellectual left his mouth; only a breathy sound, "Oh god, please don't kill me after this, okay? I guess... I mean it must have been the cambion. Shit, how much of that stuff got pumped into you?" Derek bit his bottom lip, making it bleed with the amount of force he was using, "Oh shit, don't do that! Look, I'm really, really sorry. I know... I know I'm probably not your first choice to be doing this but geez... the only way I know how to help is to..." He made a hand waving motion with one hand and cupped Derek's face with the other, giving him a sad look, "You look like shit you know." He leaned over Derek, trying to assess how to do this. He wasn't exactly in the mood to do it, but a hand job should at least help, right?

Derek's arms lifted and his hands dug into Stiles' jacket and hoodie, dragging him down and Derek crushed their lips together. Stiles was startled, tasting blood and feeling Derek's searching tongue. God, how much had the cambion give him that made an alpha werewolf want Stiles? Stiles tried to lift away but Derek's grip was super strong and determined. Derek at least lifted himself off the ground and somehow they maneuvered so he was sitting up, Derek leaning against the cage and hungrily devouring Stiles' lips in a kiss. Stiles groaned, at least he was able to be balanced now, but Derek had him fully occupied. It was wet, hot, and breathless. Stiles closed his eyes, remembering all the times Derek-double had touched him, pet him, but he never kissed him like this. THIS was really Derek. He was rough and demanding and Stiles was very tempted to take off his pants and give Derek what he was asking for. Which was sex, he was sure of it.

"Fuck, Derek." Stiles breathed, managing to pull away for air and Derek was panting, "You going to make me..." Derek claimed his lips again and it took a lot of will power for Stiles to wiggle out of his hoodie and jacket to catch his breath, because Derek still had had clothes when he got out and Derek's nose was buried in them, breathing and panting into them. Stiles tore his eyes away from Derek, looking around. He saw lube on the table and keys on the floor near by and he considered that the cambion was making this really too easy for him. Because he could... he could have sex with Derek right now, and he really wanted to, and it would really be Derek. But Derek wasn't in his right mind, so wouldn't it be like rape? But he also knew that Derek was drugged by a cambion and in a serious amount of pain by the sound of it. And what about Derek when he was clear headed? Derek wasn't going to like Stiles touching him or having sex with him while he was intoxicated.. Stiles held his head, sitting on the dirty ground and Derek started to whine again.

"Stiles..." Derek breathed his name heatedly and Stiles shivered. He groaned, thanks Derek, now he was officially hard. Not. Fair. Not fair at all.

"Just..." Stiles groaned, standing, "You know, the only word couldn't have been 'stop' or 'no', could it? Nooo, no clear messages at all. Never with you." He shucked his pants and underwear off, nearly tripping over them and Derek went still, eyes fixated on him, "I'm not unlocking you though, because I can't tell if you'll hurt me or not, okay?" Stiles grabbed the lube from the table and fished out a condom from his wallet. He was so glad he and fake Derek never needed to do it outside of his room.

"Okay, okay..." Stiles breathed and knelt before Derek and opened the condom. Derek had grabby hands because he ditched the top layers of clothing to grab for Stiles again, no doubt to try to suck his lungs out of his chest again. Stiles managed to grab the chain connecting his cuffs, angling them just out of reach of grabbing Stiles' face. Stiles wasn't even sure how he managed to get the rubber on the almost purple cock and escape Derek's grabby hands again, but he did and he picked up the lube, grimacing because he'd never done it himself and Derek was clearly watching. Stiles reached behind himself and bit his bottom lip and he eased a finger into himself and Derek gained new fervor and groaned, hips moving obscenely.

"Fuck Derek, stop that." Stiles' face was already beat red and was even more so by the time he thought he was stretched enough. Two fingers should suffice, right? He didn't want to wait anymore. He pulled his fingers free and took deep breaths, "Just... just go easy on me, kay?" He climbed over Derek's legs and slid into Derek's lap. Both of Derek's knees curled, keeping Stiles firmly in his lap and as predicted, Derek kissed his tingling lips again. The cuffs gave enough that Derek could trap Stile's waist in his hands and Stiles briefly cursed Derek for having such big hands and his own skinny waist. Derek pulled him chest to chest and his hips gyrated upwards, making Stiles moan because he didn't even have Derek in him yet and he didn't think he could take too much more. Derek looked ready to pop too, so he didn't think it was going to take too long.

Stiles rested one hand on Derek's shoulder, the other gripping Derek's cock, keeping it steady while he impaled himself on the alpha's cock. Stiles' back arched and he groaned. Derek stopped kissing him so hard and his head hit the metal bars, the deepest, growliest groan coming from Derek. And then Derek shoved him down on his cock suddenly, making Stiles gasp. There was a rush of furious thrusting, of which there was pain and pleasure and felt the warmth that filled him. Stiles jerked himself off the edge and groaned loudly, pressing his face to Derek's shoulder. It was more like all the pressure had pushed him over rather than any feel good sensations.

"Fuck..." Derek breathed, leaning against the cage, covered in dirt, sweat and looking exhausted. Stiles damned him for looking even sexier when he was so drained.

"Derek..." Stiles lifted his head and Derek's hands released his waist, taking Stiles shoulder with one hand, drawing back into another kiss, but this one softer. Stiles groaned, his head bowing and his hands ran through his hair, "It didn't work..."

"Shut up, it worked." Derek grumbled, voice dry and scratchy, "Just..." He seemed to have trouble with the words, "I need it again." Stiles stilled, looking into Derek's eyes. He wasn't joking.

"How... how many times do you need it?" Stiles whimpered because he swore his butt was already bruised with the force used.

"I don't know..." Derek panted, "Let me just check with the cambion." The sign of sarcasm was good and Stiles smiled a little. Then Stiles moved his camping leg and he grimaced.

"My ass hurts." Stiles whined.

"Good thing you didn't unchain me."

Stiles got a shiver of fear and felt Derek rock in him. Stiles let out a shuttered breath. He was still hypersensitive there and he pulled off of Derek's cock, which was shockingly still hard, "I only had one condom you know."

"I don't have any diseases." Derek sounded annoyed and Stiles rested in Derek's lap-chair for a moment, to catch his breath. At least Derek didn't look so pained now. He looked more annoyed than anything.

"I know, I know just... it's really messy to clean up. Really awkward on the toilet..." Stiles' eyes were fixated on Derek's chest instead of looking him in the face. This was the weirdest conversation ever with Derek. It topped him landing on Derek when Jackson paralyzed them and it also topped the cutting off the arm fiasco. Derek's eyes reddened and his hands gripped Stiles' thighs, startling Stiles to look up, seeing the angry gaze, "I, I guess, I guess I don't need one..." Stiles started to mumble.

"He didn't use condoms?" Derek growled.

"Well um..." Stiles had to think back, "No, not unless I asked him to. He was really stubborn about it." Derek snorted, steam rising in the chilly chambers, "Is... is that bad?" Derek gritted his teeth. No, nothing bad, except that for werewolves it was scent marking Stiles as his. But knowing it was the cambion just refueled his anger. He wanted to leave his mark on Stiles, not some 2-bit shape shifter that rolled into town. Derek lifted his arms and wrapped them around Stiles, trapping the teenager in his grasp. Stiles straightened up a bit, nervously. Derek discarded the used condom, tossing it far enough away to be out of sight out of mind.

"Where's the lube?" Derek asked and Stiles gestured to the bottle within reach. "You need to use more. Lots more," Derek didn't think Stiles had used enough when he was prepping or stretching himself, but he hadn't been in the right mind to tell Stiles to go back and do it right. Stiles blushed more and picked up the bottle, pouring a little more onto his fingers, "More." Stiles was being skimpy with it.

"How much more?!" Stiles asked, frustrated and embarrassed. He hadn't done this before. He used just as much as he would if he was normally masturbating.

"More than that." Derek quipped. Stiles sighed and added more to his hand, and then reached behind him, slathering it against his hole. He groaned, his fingers sliding in easier than before. Okay, maybe he shouldn't have been so shy with it before. And then he felt Derek's fingers joining Stiles' and Stiles whined, leaning against Derek's chest with his own.

"Wha... what are you doing?" Stiles realized it was a stupid question as soon as it left his mouth.

"Making sure you're stretched enough." Derek slid two thick fingers into Stiles and Stiles removed his own, his arms curling on Derek's chest as Stiles moaned, feeling himself petted inside; the way he really liked it. Derek's fingers opened him up and Stiles back arched and his elbows pushed against Derek's chest his head falling back. Fuck, how did he ever think that imposter was Derek? This was so much better. So much more raw and tense. This was Derek.

"Derek..." Stiles mewled and Derek's fingers slid out and Derek was panting hard on his face.

"W-wipe the rest on my cock." Derek demanded and Stiles reached between them, smearing the residue on Derek's cock, which was hot under his finger tips. Stiles yelped, feeling the cold bite of the shackles against his back as Derek's hand gripped his ass and eased him down onto his cock. Stiles was panting, completely hard again, rubbing against the previous stains that he'd left on Derek's belly.

"God, Derek..." Stiles moaned, feeling Derek slide into his tender chute. He slid all the way to the base and Derek kissed his lifted throat. Stiles was starting to not mind drugged up Derek. Bouncing and rocking together was ecstasy. It wasn't the break neck speed as earlier, and there was something sensual in that. It felt great. And who knew Derek Hale was a kisser? Stiles chuckled; Derek was a lover AND a fighter came to mind. Stiles leaned down, kissing Derek's lips, drowning himself in the pleasure, "Derek..." Stiles breathed his name slowly against the werewolf's mouth and Derek kissed back harder, moving Stiles' hips up and own manually, both getting closer to their goal.

"Stiles..." Derek grunted under his breath, sounding like a warning of some kind.

"Please, please, please..." Stiles moaned repeatedly, hips bucking as he jerked his own cock. Derek bellowed, shoving Stiles down on his cock hard and Stiles felt the burning heat filling him. Stiles whimpered Derek's name and painted Derek once more with his cum. Stiles panted heavily, leaning his forehead against Derek's muscly shoulder, which was nice and stable because Stiles was sure he was shaking. They were both quiet and Derek moved first, lifting his arms from around Stiles body.

"Cold." Stiles grumbled tiredly and Derek rolled his eyes, jerking to the side so Stiles fell onto the dirty floor, essentially ruining the moment of pure bliss. Stiles sat up, "Ow, haven't you every hear of cuddling after sex?"

"Cuddling in a prison is not my idea of a good time." Derek snapped and Stiles grimaced, remembering where they were.

"Oh, right." Stiles scooped up the keys, of which there was like 5 of them and he started trying to fit them with the manacles, "You're not going to kill me for that, are you?"

"Are you going to keep asking stupid questions like that?" Derek returned and Stiles sighed. Yup, good old Derek. Stiles finally found the key that worked and they popped off with rusted squeaks. Derek gingerly rubbed his raw wrists and Stiles grimaced.

"Shouldn't... those be healed?" Stiles asked, standing and getting his boxers and pants back on. His shirt was stained and would never be the same, but he never liked this shirt anyway. He pulled off the shirt and wiped himself clean and then tossed it to Derek, who got the jist, scrubbing himself the best he could.

"Healing has been slow." Derek said carefully, watching Stiles find and shake out his hoodie and jacket before putting them back on. "Took me longer than usual to heal the broken spine and ribs." Stiles grimaced and tossed the keys near the chains. In case some poor slob was locked down there again. Derek might just make his way back there one day. Derek slowly stood and Stiles looked away, noting that he hadn't fully solved Derek's problem. Little Derek was still 'atten-hut'.

"You're still..." Stiles looked around. There had to be pants or something for Derek.

"It's still in my system." Derek said, grimacing as he held his ribs. Okay, maybe not everything was fully healed yet. But he was sure the cambion was still weak as well, "It... probably needs to be purged a few more times. I can do it on my own." Stiles' lips formed a tight line, because he wanted to do it again. Okay, he was tired and barely on his own two feet, but damn it, he was a teenager, he wanted to do it until he couldn't move. And he could still move at the moment.

"If you want... I could help." Stiles offered and flinched when Derek shoved a finger in his face, snarling.

"DON'T offer that." Derek ignored the hurt look in Stiles eyes and found the pants that the cambion had been wearing. The cambion had stolen all of his clothes, and his shoes too. But this was far from the first time he'd run without shoes. He snarled at the fact that the old underwear was still in the denim and he shook out the banana hammock. Sicko. Derek put on the pants. He was going to have to ignore his cock rubbing against denim. He heard a stifled laugh and saw that Stiles had seen the leopard print fall from the pants. "They AREN'T mine." Derek snapped and stalked to the door. Stiles followed as the door was opened and they both stepped into the hall. Stiles looked around, looking for Scott, but he wasn't in sight.

"Scott came with me." Stiles said and Derek breathed and grimaced, walking further into the chambers.

"Did he get get a shot too?" Derek asked and Stiles nodded.

"Yeah, he seemed okay though. Maybe a bit red but nothing as bad as you." Stiles got out his phone and turned on the flashlight.

"It gets worse as it goes on. He'll have to relieve himself too." Derek turned down one corned and stopped.

"So stick him with Allison, they'll be okay." Stiles said offhandedly and his light landed on Scott, who'd shed two layers of shirts and had his fly undone, rocking back and forth, holding his head and whimpering.

"I'm not putting him with an Argent when he's like this." Derek pointed to Scott, "Besides, they called it off finally, didn't they?"

"She did. I... I don't know who else he likes though." Stiles wrung his fingers, suddenly uncomfortable because his best friend was two articles of clothing to naked and he really didn't want to see that side of Scott. Derek sighed, picking Scott up by the arm and pushing him towards the exit. Scott still had enough balance and coordination to walk, but looked so confused and lost.

"Scott, pull up your pants, geez." Stiles waved his hand but Scott groaned, rubbing his head.

"It's too hot." Scott groaned and had to be lead out. Stiles picked up his shirts along the way and lead his friend to his jeep, putting Scott in the back. The young werewolf was panting and curled up in the back seat, as though trying to hide. Yeah, definitely not as bad as Derek, but far from being publicly presentable.

Stiles got his keys from his pocket and got into his jeep and so did Derek; who even buckling up. Stiles glanced at Derek, then back to the dirt trail.

"Derek... about what happened in there..." Stiles tapped the steering wheel, the motor humming under them.

"Stiles, we're not talking about this while Scott is moaning in the back seat." Derek stressed and Stiles blushed, hearing his friend do just that. Though whether in pleasure or pain could not be told. Stiles hoped it was the latter.

"Yeah... um... Where to?" Stiles backed the car out from where he was.

"The house." Derek said and ran his hand through his hair, feeling tired and trying to think of things that turned him off and not think about how Stiles moaned his name into his ear and exposed his neck so willingly. So trustingly.

* * *

(Sex was actually not planned here. I blame Derek.)


	12. Magic BJs

Stiles' jeep skidded to a halt in front of the Hale house. Derek was out first, keeping his senses open; hearing the silence around the house. Peter's keyboard wasn't clinking. Jackson wasn't snoring. There was the over hanging feeling of wrongness, like a dark cloud. Derek hopped up on the porch without the use of stairs and pointed a finger at Stiles, who was running around the jeep to follow.

"Stay." Derek demanded and Stiles glared after him, being told to stay out of the adventure again. Scott seemed to get a hold of himself and had climbed out of the back, still shirtless, but his pants were staying on. Derek turned to run inside and Stiles looked to Scott who was holding his head in his hands. Scott was having trouble keeping the transformation under grips.

"You going to be okay, man?" Stiles asked and Scott swallowed air, nodding.

"I think so." Scott told him and looked up at the huge burnt structure, his nose sniffing overtime, "... oh..."

"Oh what?" Stiles asked since it sounded more like a realization rather than a moan, of which Stiles was quickly becoming uncomfortably aware of with his best friend.

"Um... You don't smell that." Scott determined by Stiles' face. Scott's wolfy face let out a shaky breath to calm himself, "Um, werewolves are um... crap, you know, it''s really obvious when they're in the... well..." There was Scott and his awful terrible vocabulary.

"Arousal?" Stiles tried and Scott nodded. Stiles sighed. Great, the cambion was here. Or had been there.

Derek found Isaac first, at the bottom of the stairs, curled up tight and shaking. Derek crouched on one knee by him and pulled him from his safe ball. Isaac was flushed and the full scent of arousal hit Derek. Isaac was gasping for air, a myriad of stresses flashing over his face when he looked up at Derek.

"Did you get attacked by the cambion?" Derek managed and Isaac nodded, still coherent enough to understand and communicate. Isaac seemed to relax, realizing it was actually his alpha and not the cambion. Isaac looked up and reached for the stairs and Derek nodded, releasing Isaac and heading upstairs. But Isaac caught his ankle, whimpering pathetically. Derek grimaced, wondering if he'd looked that bad in the prison. Derek leaned down, prying Isaac's fingers from his limb, squeezing it a moment, "Focus on your anchor." He ripped his hand away and ran upstairs.

Derek knew it wouldn't really help Isaac fight the drug, but it gave Isaac something to focus on rather than being frightened and not knowing what was happening with his body; the loss of control. Derek's fists curled tighter and he followed his nose. He found Jackson in the room his pack had been sleeping in. He was directed down the hall before Jackson let out a pained groan and it must have been killing Jackson to be huddled on the floor, shaking for anyone to witness. Derek darted down the hall and halted, finding a hole back to the lower levels.

Derek dropped down onto all fours and his head snapped up, finding Peter's outline on the ground. But Peter was bleeding, a large slash across his shoulder to his hip. Peter chuckled darkly when one uninjured eye looked at Derek.

"See, you shouldn't run off by yourself." Peter wearily wagged a finger at his nephew, smelling the difference in Dereks right away. Derek grimaced.

"Not you too." Derek detested the thought in his uncle being drugged.

"Oh hush, I have needs too." Peter forced himself up, holding his ribs, cringing, "pain really dulls the need though." there was a dry chuckle, "You're stronger than you look you know." Derek gave his uncle an urgent look and Peter pointed out the back door. "Our runaways are good at, well, guess what." Derek took off, following Erica and Boyd's scents.

He found them, all three of them. Boyd was fighting the cambion tooth and nail, while Erica was whimpering and writhing in the dirt, the smell of forced heat coming off of her. The cambion was holding Boyd down by his throat, both of them full of claw marks and the cambion was wild with hunger. Wilder than Derek vowed he would ever be. Derek ran and lunged, toppling the cambion off of Boyd and sinking his claws into the already bleeding flesh.

Neither Derek nor the cambion were at their peak, but the cambion was more worn down by fighting the whole pack and it showed, moving sluggish, torn open so much that even Derek's body could not heal so quickly. And a werewolf needed energy to heal while the cambion was running on fumes. It was satisfying to see fear in that beasts' eyes and Derek tried not to think of how poetic it was to end his own life by killing himself. Derek was happy to deliver his promise of ripping off the cambion's head. Blood seeped into the forest floor and Derek panted with the effort, but his strength was significantly getting better after he and Stiles... well, after Stiles had helped.

Derek looked back around and found Boyd and Erica were celebrating in their own way, lips locked and grinding against each other. Derek's eyes narrowed but then widened and he got up to yank them apart by their jackets.

"Anchors, now." Derek growled and they didn't fight him on it, seeming embarrassed by their own lack of self-control. Derek did not really have a problem with their passion, but above all else, he would NOT have puppies running around here within the year. And Erica's body was more than obviously receptive to bear young at the moment. He set them down, but he knew it would not hold forever. He grabbed Erica's arm, leading her back to the house. For the life of him, he could not think of who would have condoms on them. And he knew Erica wasn't on any sort of pill. Despite her promiscuous attitude, she was still a virgin.

Making it back to the front of the house, Derek found Stiles, in his jeep, looking red faced and staring fixative on one of the trees outside. Derek dragged Erica in hand and Boyd following shakily. Derek rapped on the jeep window, gaining Stiles' attention and Stiles blinked at them dumbfounded, especially since Erica looked like a hot mess, lip gloss smeared and hair full of leaves and dirt. Erica eyed Stiles earnestly and Derek pushed her back with a stern glare.

"We need condoms." Derek said and Stiles' face darkened in red color.

"Um..." He reached behind his back seat and brought up a box that was already opened. Derek frowned, looking at the box.

"They're Scott's, if you must know." Stiles stated, waving around the box, "He stores stuff in my jeep when we're at school." Derek remembered Scott had been sleeping with Alison and brushed aside any comments, "I um, already threw some at Scott and Isaac." Derek's eyes bulged, staring at Stiles.

"Isaac and..." Derek heard Isaac moan loudly from inside the first floor of the house and Derek held his own head for a moment. Well, at least Isaac was being taken care of. Derek turned to Erica, who was leaning her forehead on Boyd's shoulder, both were shaking and obviously trying to hold it together. Derek turned Erica around, pressing the box directly in her hand. He made sure she was looking at him, and she had no problem looking up at Derek, lust drive nearing its peak and between two of her favorite men. "You're going back into the house and using these." Derek told her, giving the box a good shake, bordering on a threatening growl, "I'll know if you don't." She bit her lip and nodded and she took Boyd's hand, dragging him inside. Boyd looked more nervous than her, but eager as well as they disappeared inside.

Derek then climbed in Stiles' jeep and Stiles looked startled at his presence, "You're just going to let them have an orgy in there?" Stiles's eyes were wide, trying to absorb all the information and taking in Derek's blood bathed form.

"Drive." Derek demanded, pointing to where he wanted Stiles to go. Stiles rolled his eyes, but he wouldn't fight it at the moment. Not after he saw Scott walked inside the house and pounce Isaac. Scott had jumped on Isaac faster than Stiles had first comprehended. Scott just started tonguing Isaac and humping against each other and Isaac looked compliant and eager to Scott's demands. And then the clothes started coming off and the mouths were on skin. It was so fast that Stiles saw all that before he could shut the door and ran back to his jeep. He'd gone back briefly, with his eyes closed, thrown in a hand full of condoms and ran away. Stiles sort of understood then how Scott felt when Derek's scent filled his room. So weird.

Stiles drove a few miles and even after 3 miles, Derek still waved him to keep going, and Derek was veering his head away from the Hale house, as if he could still hear them; and Stiles didn't really doubt that he could. Finally they stopped at a stream and Derek was satisfied with the distance. The ride was silent and awkward, because Stiles still wasn't sure what to say, and he still glanced over, seeing Derek's condition was the same as it had been in the chamber. He was still hard. Even the tracking and fighting hadn't changed it. It had to be uncomfortable. Maybe even downright painful.

When Stiles put the jeep in park, Derek stepped out and went right to the stream, dipping his hands into it and splashing the cold water onto his face, clearing the grime and blood from his body. Stiles rolled down his window and watched, leaning his arms on the window rubber. Should he really care now obvious he watched now? Sure with Danny he only caught a few glances of Derek while Danny stared freely because he was out of the closet and Stiles had been wandering around somewhere in the winter clothes in the back. Stiles did not have that luxury. Well... he sort of did now, right? Stiles watched the rivers of red disappear into the water so Derek was mostly clean of blood. Derek looked down at himself and then turned his gaze to Stiles. Stiles' face heated and when Derek gave him a glare, Stiles looked away. Okay, Derek still had the power to strike fear right through Stiles, even from 5 yards away.

Stiles heard the splish splash of water and peeked over his shoulder, seeing Derek had waded into the water and the blood and dirt soaked pants were on a rock. Stiles swallowed, watching Derek dip down and come up completely drenched. Was this some sort of torture Derek was putting him through because they'd had sex? Stiles was pretty sure he did not deserve this awful punishment.

After a few minutes, Derek walked out of the water, picking up the pants and tossing another glare at Stiles. Stiles did not look away this time though, mouth parted as he stared at Derek's still fully erect cock. Oh... so that's what Derek had been trying to get rid of. No luck because it was still ridged and dark with collected blood. Stiles crossed his legs in his jeep as Derek walked closer, after pulling the pants on most of the way, but not bothering to zip them. Stiles jammed his knee on the steering wheel and his face was scrunched in pain as Derek opened the passenger door again, sliding in with a clean body, but filthy pants. Lovely; Stiles felt for his jeep. Derek looked at him and Stiles' eyes veered back out the window, ringing his fingers. Derek took a deep breath.

"I might need your assistance one more time." Derek said lowly, as though he didn't want to. Stiles blinked, glancing over at Derek.

"You ARE Derek Hale, and not the cambion, right?" Stiles asked, experience teaching him to be paranoid with these sorts of situations now. Derek rolled his eyes.

"You offered back at the holding cell." Derek reminded him, "And it won't go away on its own."

"So... you're not going to go back and bang Erica?" Stiles asked and Derek had the decency to look slightly horrified.

"No I'm NOT." Derek gritted his teeth and Stiles actually thought he sounded offended.

"Well, you kinda gave her that whole box of condoms." Stiles waved his hand, as though it was supposed to explain everything.

"Because that LAST thing I want is for Erica to be pregnant." Derek's frown deepened as he looked at Stiles, "I'm not sleeping with her." Stiles looked at Derek curiously, leaning his cheek against his knuckles.

"So... you WANT to do it again with me?" Stiles asked with a hint of hope. Derek rolled his eyes and pointed to his freed and painfully obvious erection in his pants.

"Stiles, make your big mouth useful." Derek snapped and Stiles couldn't say he disliked the unanswered question or the demand that was made of him. Stiles leaned over in his seat, his one hand leaning on Derek's strong thigh and peeling back the flap of the fly. It wasn't exactly his first experience with this particular activity. He dabbled with it with, well, the other Derek. Stiles was way more comfortable referring with any contact with the cambion with another Derek instead. It didn't make it any less bizarre though in the end.

Derek leaned back in the bucket seat and Stiles first laid a kiss on Derek's abs, which contracted with the soft touch and Stiles was startled when Derek flicked his ear. Stiles shot Derek a glare and Derek gave him an impatient look. Stiles crinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue at Derek briefly before he leaned down again and licked the head of the dick, which seemed to be radiating all of Derek's heat at the moment. Stiles pulled Derek's pants down lower, licking down the side of the shaft and then back up before wrapping his fingers around it and stroking it in his palm. He glanced up at Derek, whose eyes were closed and his one hand covered his eyes, his mouth pulled into a grimace and his teeth were gritted.

"Derek..." Stiles began, wondering if Derek really wanted him to continue because he was getting an awful lot of mixed signals. Then Derek's free hand rested on his head and pushed him back towards the cock.

"I want you to do it." Derek glanced down at Stiles and the words seemed more painful than the neglected cock in Stiles' hand. Stiles swallowed, and leaned back down to continue. He took as much into his mouth as he could and started sucking and bobbing his head. Derek's body was very still and Derek's eyes closed again, fingers curling against Stiles' short hair, not long enough to really grab. Stiles was starting to wonder if he was even doing well because Derek wasn't responding. No looks, no movements, except Derek's hand on his head wouldn't let him pull all the way off his cock. And just as Stiles thought he was getting the hang of it, Derek them moved, his hips rocking forward and an involuntary groan left him.

"Fuck." Derek muttered and not a moment later Stiles' mouth was filled with cum. Stiles was surprised and pulled back, coughing a bit after he swallowed the first burst and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve to remove what had dribbled out. Not his favorite taste in the world, but seeing Derek gasping and breathing rapidly for a bit afterwards was well worth it, he thought. Stiles was also pleased to see that Derek was going flaccid and he grinned, his arms hitting the roof in victory, startling Derek out of his tired stupor.

"Yes! Magic blowjobs!" was the first thing that popped out of Stile's mouth and Derek's looked at him like he was crazy again, but this time Stiles was rather proud of himself and did not allow the sourwolf to ruin his victory over cambion sex drugs. Derek rolled his eyes and lifted his hips up, zipping up the pants. He then snagged a few napkins from Stiles' jeep floor, from some fast food place, and cleaned off the rest of the reminiscence of the drug. Stiles pressed his lips together, looking down at his own problem in his pants that weren't caused by any drug. He opened his mouth to speak again, but his jeep door was already opening and it closed. Stiles blinked, seeing Derek walking away. Stiles stumbled out his own door, running to the front of his jeep, "Wait, where you going?"

"I'm going to go get my clothes from a corpse." Derek stopped, looking at Stiles. He pointed at Stiles with his finger, "You're going home."

"Derek..." Stiles' voice came out more longing than he'd planned and Derek strode back to him in two steps, getting that violent look that made Stiles brace against his jeep front.

"Whatever you think we 'had' was all a fucking lie, Stiles." Derek ground out and Stiles stared up at him, the hurt obvious on his face, "That was a cambion, and it's dead now. We're going back to the way things were. You _don't_ love me. You fell for some animal that just wanted to EAT you." Stiles slipped back from Derek, blinking his eyes furiously, "Go home now."

Stiles glared at Derek, who looked super pissed. Stiles slammed his door after he got back in and Derek backed away a couple steps, eyes still on Stiles to make sure he left. Stiles hit his hand on the side of his own jeep, leaning out his window, "Fuck you Derek!" He snapped and for a split moment, Derek felt good about his decision, at least until Stiles shifted the jeep into drive, throwing another tear filled glare in his direction, "You don't know a fucking thing about who I love!" And then Stiles hit the gas, peeling out of the area, back towards the main trail. Derek watched him go, feeling an uncomfortable rock of guilt in his gut.

* * *

*Whaps Derek with a news paper* Stop breaking things!


	13. The Missing Piece

Derek made it back to his old family home when it was quiet, and that was nearly 5 in the morning. He collected the body of his identical corpse and he took a good amount of time burying the thing, happily retrieving his leather jacket. It wasn't exactly a good feeling burying himself naked in the earth, but it was better than someone coming along and finding it in the forest or in a river. He buried the head separate from the body, just to make sure it absolutely wouldn't come back. The effort it would take out all the blood out of his clothes would be a nightmare; but Derek walked back in his own comfortable fitting pants and his leather jacket, sans shirt and underwear. Stupid cambion...

Derek walked in the door and found Peter in the kitchen, wearing pants and a ruffled, dirty shirt from their trip; at least he didn't look half dead still. His uncle actually had his head in his hand as he sat in the old kitchen chair, a mug of real coffee in his hand instead of the useless decaffeinated stuff. Derek took one whiff of his uncle and he covered his nose with his hand, slightly alarmed.

"Oh shut up." Peter grumbled, not even looking up to see his nephew, "I already feel terrible about it." Derek was mostly horrified and partly amused. Derek opened his mouth to throw out a snarky remark but Peter gave him a narrowed look, "Shut it, before I fill you in on the extraordinarily loud adventures of Isaac and Scott." Derek paused. His uncle could be very descriptive, and he already didn't want to imagine Scott and Isaac doing it in the entrance to his house. He already smelled it. This old place now smelled of chard house, people, mold, and the stench of an orgy. It was almost unbearable if he focused on it. Derek wiped his hands through his hair and chose his words carefully.

"Please tell me Erica used condoms." Derek said and Peter sighed tiredly, looking into his coffee mug.

"You'll find them all used in the living room." Peter drank from his mug, "And just so you know, she doesn't share worth a damn."

"As long as there are no babies around, I'm a happy camper." Derek grabbed himself a mug and filled it with sweet caffeine. Peter raised a brow at Derek, knowing full well that 'happy camper' was very far away from where Derek was right now. The normal doom and gloom seemed intensified with Derek right now.

"Where's Stiles?" Peter asked, "I know I heard his yell earlier." Peter remembered hearing Stiles' familiar choking noise right before Scott and Isaac started moaning.

"Home." Derek said into his coffee cup as he added milk and a bit of sugar, his back to his uncle. "Scott still here?"

"Upstairs with the others." Peter replied easily, his focus now on his nephew, who turned back to the counter to set his coffee down. Derek looked into the cooler, finding the meat and frowning. It would not be enough to feed his whole pack when they woke up. The hunk of deer flank would barely be able to sedate his own hunger, because he hadn't eaten in nearly 23 hours. The traveling, the problem of the cambion, being locked up and then Stiles... Derek shut the cooler and took a deep breath, pushing that subject away. Stiles wasn't his problem anymore. He took care of that. Surely Stiles was angry with him enough to stay away.

"I need to go hunting." Derek finally said and Peter set his empty mug on the table, knitting his fingers together under his chin.

"You need to go work things out with Stiles." Peter corrected him and Derek frowned.

"There's nothing to work out." Derek said automatically, "Nothing... should have happened. With the cambion or me." Derek was sure Stiles' scent was still on him, sometimes he caught whiffs, as though the stream refused to wash him properly, even though it was freezing cold. Just like the scent was on Peter and this house.

Peter was giving him this look, like he was looking at Derek anew, eyes wider, more focused, "You... you slept with Stiles. The real Stiles?" Peter asked. Derek stayed silent, drinking down a good portion of his coffee, refusing to dignify that with a response, "So you were drugged." Peter shook his finger and a sly grin was spreading on his face, "I _knew_ you liked that boy." Derek's eyes narrowed at Peter.

"I do NOT. He was convenient."

"Oh convenience, sure. Then I suppose you didn't take care of an obviously drugged Scott."

"You're sick." Derek gritted his teeth. Scott felt like a stubborn and very annoying little brother more than anything else. Peter grinned.

"You DO like him." Peter stood from his chair, "The cambion's drug doesn't keep passion locked up, Derek."

"Oh, like you're one to TALK." Derek balked, "do you know what YOU smell like?"

"Well I can't blame youth for admiring the wise and cultured." Peter preened in his discovery, "Not my first choice but I can assure you, youthful enthusiasm makes up for a lot."

"I can't believe you." Derek threw up his hands.

"Oh hush." Peter smirked, "I knew you were worried about him. You went after the cambion to stop it from going back for Stiles. It was a stupid move, and you didn't HAVE to get involved so fast. You know-"

Derek lunged for his uncle but Peter as all healed up and he dodged over the other side of the counter, his nephew growling at him. Peter gave him a stern look, frowning at Derek.

"You'd better not have stomped on his heart a second time." Peter told him, "Honestly, any fears you have about relationships is pointless when you have a perfectly good person who loves you. Even though you happen to be the absolute worst person possible to that boy, he still manages to _like_ you for some reason."

"That's _why_ I have to keep him away." Derek snapped, silencing his uncle. Peter actually looked stunned that Derek acknowledged the feeling but still resisted. Derek turned from the room and went upstairs, avoiding the creaky spots with years of knowledge.

He found himself looking in on his pack, of which was one person larger than normal. Scott and Isaac were curled together under an old blanket, presumably still naked because one of Scott's legs was popped out and it was not covered in jeans. Then there was Erica and Boyd, who at least had the decency to put on pants and Erica a tank top before spooning together on the mattress. Then there was Jackson, who had secured his own blanket around himself like a cocoon and was fast asleep between the two couples. Derek's shoulders slumped and held his head, feeling his pack was still one member short. And it would always feel one member short without Stiles.

Derek walked back downstairs and looked to his uncle, who had settled back in his chair and was watching Derek. Derek grimaced, how was he supposed to keep it quiet when Peter already knew? And how was he supposed to get rid of this nagging feeling that would not let up? How could he undo what he'd already done?

"Fine," Derek caved, knowing he was going to deal with his uncle's prying anyway so he grabbed his coffee and set about cooking up the meat that was in the cooler, "What do you think I should do?" Peter smiled, leaning his elbows on the table, preceding to give a lengthy and detailed explanation that only ridiculed Derek a few times in the process.


	14. St John's Wort

Stile's eyes opened, his room was alight and his pillow was warm and damp under his face. He took a slow breath in and his pillow still smelled of Derek. The cambion, Stiles corrected tiredly. He'd been making a lot of those corrections. Stiles had gotten a few hours of sleep, waking when his dad knocked on his bedroom door and mentioning breakfast. Stile had replied with something akin to, "K". At least his dad knew he was alive. Whether his dad knew he'd been out until early morning was unknown until he sat down at the table for food. And even if his dad did know, maybe he let it go account of he looked like utter crap; and not in the illness driven way, because his dad didn't ask any probing questions; just gave him those odd looks.

Why the hell did it feel like a break up when he and Derek had never been together? Why did some sex demon have to go and make him fall in love with Derek Hale of all people? What was he even supposed to do around the guy now. 'Sorry dude, I fell in love with a liar who had your face and I thought it was you. Sorry about all the awkward air that's here now. Oh also, sorry we fucked in the cage, even though it was the best thing I ever felt and you were under the influence of some sex drug.'

Shit, how did this get so messed up? It had to be the sex drugs in the cage that made everything so good, because nothing after that gave Stiles any assurance that Derek ever remotely liked him. God, he was going to have to probably meet up with Derek again and pretend like nothing had happened. He didn't think he could do it. Not now, and it didn't feel like ever. And he knew it as dumb because it was over Derek Hale of all friggen people in the county. And Stiles just felt like the fool.

Stiles took a deep breath and watched his dad leave for work for that night out the window. He was better than this. Stiles refused to cry like a girl over Derek Hale of all dicks. He wasn't going to gorge himself on bad food and sad movies; like he wanted to. And he wasn't going to listen to heartbreak stations on his phone and cry; also like he wanted to. He did however ponder retrieving the half bottle of Jack Daniels from the stash his dad had and drowning himself; but god that sounded depressing as hell. Maybe some Jack and some very angry comedians on youtube would help him out. Because his supposed best friend wasn't here to get him drunk like he was supposed to because he was probably freaking out about doing things with Isaac.

Looked like he was on his own. Big surprise.

So, he retrieved the Jack with little trouble after dark and as he entered his room he was only mildly surprised to see Derek there. They both eyed each other for a moment before Stiles rolled the bottle cap off the top and took a deep gulp, coughing only a little because it was rushed. He stepped inside, seeing the leather jacket and regular jeans. He was still weary, "I'm not sleeping with you again, you're an awful cuddlier." He was going to go down tooth and nail with as much pride as possible. Fully loaded sarcasm canons locked and loaded in his little tug boat up against a war ship. Oh yes, this was probably going to crash and burn.

Derek rolled his eyes, "I'm not here to sleep with you."

"Good, cause I'm still getting over my last break up, and I'm not a rebound kind of guy." Stiles slid into his computer seat. He took another swig and then, because his daddy had taught him manners, he wagged the bottle in Derek's general direction, "Want some?" Derek stepped closer, inspecting the bottle.

"You don't have enough in there to get me drunk." Derek said and Stiles spun slowly in his chair. He remembered Scott drinking a quarter of the bottle and feeling nothing last time.

"Fine, don't have any. More for me." Stiles tapped on his laptop keyboard and got on the web, clicking his netflix tab, "Now if you excuse me, George Carlin is calling my name."

"You don't even care why I came?" Derek's voice was right behind him and Stiles turned around, frowning up at Derek, tilting his head back to look up at the werewolf.

"Derek, I don't even want to know who you are right now." Stiles said bitterly, "I just want to forget you even exist. And it's very hard to do when you're here. Looking at me. And... Are those flowers?" Derek was holding a bundle of yellow flowers, "You better not be bringing me flowers."

"They're herbs." Derek dumped them on Stiles' desk and dusted his hands off, "It's called St. John's Wort. It helps with depression."

"I'm not depressed." Stiles stated firmly and Derek gave him a raised brow. Stiles looked at the bottle of Jack and held it to his chest, "I'm not, Jack here is my buddy tonight, and he's helping me through a rough time." Derek frowned and plucked the bottle from Stiles' grip and Stiles refused to let it go willingly, but Derek was still a prick, and still stronger and he lifted the bottle and downed the contents down his throat, "Oi! Hey! You said you couldn't get dunk from that!" Derek wiped his mouth with the back of his palm and tossed the bottle into Stiles' lap, empty. Stiles glared at him, shaking the empty bottle at him, "You're such a dick!"

"I'm talking to you, and you need to be sober." Derek sat on the corner of Stiles' desk and Stiles turned away stubbornly, dropping the glass on the floor. Derek took a deep breath, collecting what little patience he had left.

"I know you don't want to see me right now." Derek said, looking at the back of Stiles' head, "But delaying this conversation isn't going to help anyone."

"You can't even give me a WEEK of solitude, can you?" Stiles waved his hand indignantly at the empty air, "Because I know all I'm going to hear is that I'm an idiot for falling for you and we shouldn't have done anything down in that cage/dungeon thing, and nothing will happen because you can't even tolerate me on a good day. And I don't want to hear it." there's a quiet moment. Derek took a deep breath.

"Stiles, I'm dangerous." Derek stated.

"No, duh." Stiles groaned into his arm.

"I mean..." Derek turned Stiles' chair so Stiles was looking at him, "The cambion took your form. And I... I bit, it. And it started dying." Derek stressed every word and Stiles' mouth parted slightly in surprise. Derek looked stressed over it, more than he should be. Stiles could feel more on the horizon and he bit his sore lip. The one he'd been biting a lot lately, "I watched you die." Those words were heavy, like it had torn Derek somewhere that Derek didn't even know he had.

"So you think that if you bite me, I'll die." Stiles said slowly. Derek didn't move, didn't blink, but Stiles knew that it was what Derek had been thinking, "So don't bite me."

"You make it sound so easy." Derek scoffed, finally breaking eye contact, leaning his hands heavily on his knees.

"I'm not scared of you biting me." Stiles said evenly, breathing out a tired sigh. He was so tired, "I just..." He looked at the weed on his desk and reached forward, pinching the stem of one between his fingers and bringing it to his face to inspect it. "I can't believe you brought me flowers."

"Herbs." Derek grunted.

"Flowers." Stiles returned, looking up at Derek. He bit down a smile, then there was that pang of hurt in his chest. Was it a cambion thing to bring him herbs or was it a Derek thing? He never told Derek that the cambion brought him herbs as well, "I... feel... like I know you, even though I don't." He touched the little pollen stems between the peddles with his nose, "I can't tell what was acting and what was real the past few weeks." He looked up at Derek, who was tense again, as though braced for something. Stiles just watched him. Derek was not acting like the cambion at all. The cambion was smooth and confident with this. Derek was tense and defensive; maybe even a bit scared. Stiles let out a long held breath, "I still want that date."

Derek stared at Stiles, unable to work his mouth for a moment and Stiles turned the flowers around in his hand.

"I mean, not immediately." Stiles continued, "but um... We've kinda boned and I still find you attractive." Stiles tipped the flower back near his face, "Do you... find me attractive?" Derek held his head in his hand and Stiles found this all rather slow and hard after the first time. Derek didn't seem to have an easy time with this emotional stuff either, but then again, it was Derek. The flowers touched Stiles nose again and his mouth twitched and he bit off one buds and Derek's eye brows shot up. Stiles chewed and coughed, his mouth filled with dry tasteless plant, "Oh god, bad idea." Derek looked away, but Stiles caught the hidden simper even as he wiped his mouth of the plant.

"Dinner." Derek finally spoke, "Next week, when you look less dead." Stiles smiled a little himself.

"Okay." Stiles said and Derek leaned forward, a hand reaching for Stiles' face. Stiles blinked furiously as Derek wiped his nose with his thumb and Derek leaned back again, "You're covered in pollen." Stiles rubbed his face with his palm and it was smudged yellow.

"Huh." Stiles smiled and then it dropped, watching Derek get up and heading over to the window, "Where are you going?" Stiles asked and Derek paused after cracking the window open.

"Going to sleep." Derek said, opening the window further. Stiles stood up, sucking in a sharp breath.

"Stay." Stiles wasn't sure if it had come out a request or a question. Something in between he was sure. Derek paused, looking back to Stiles, who was holding onto that one wilting plant and Derek debated that they needed time apart... but they were already having so much time apart, and that wasn't helping anything. And he disliked the torn expression on Stiles face. Derek nodded and he closed the window.

"Your dad isn't allowed to shoot me." Derek told him and Stiles smiled more than he had thus far. Stiles dropped the plant with the others and Derek toed his shoes off, "And no sex." Stiles pouted firmly but Derek was also firm with that decision. Stiles debated fighting it but decided that was best, just on the off chance that Derek was another cambion. Which was counter productive if he was.

Stiles slipped into bed and Derek turned out the light. Stiles was still in his full PJs from that morning and he only saw Derek's outline as he climbed into bed with him, not leaning in too close, even though it was a twin bed. Stiles' hand reached out, touching Derek's torso somewhere and rough fingers took his quickly so he guessed Derek was facing him. At least Derek didn't bend them or squeeze them so hard this time. In fact, Stiles blushed when he felt warm lips on his knuckles. Stiles' heart beat almost like a drum again and he rolled closer, throwing an arm over Derek and wallowing in his warmth. Derek's arm curled around his back and waist. It was a moment of careful breathing, but it was nice. Stiles breathed in the musk, the musty charbroiled house on Derek and Stiles smiled more.

"Can werewolves see in the dark?"

"Go to sleep, Stiles"

"Seriously, cause I still feel your eyes on me."

"Shut up."

Stiles still felt a perfectly aimed kiss on his lips and Stiles smiled, hugging Derek closer and closing his eyes.


	15. Cake

Stiles picked the tomatoes off of his sandwich as he lay belly down on the musky old blanket and then replaced the top of the roll, biting into a surprisingly good tasting venison and pickle sandwich. He looked around, seeing Isaac napping under a tree and Erica and Boyd playing something similar to tag around a couple of trees. Erica seemed to be "It" as she tried to tackle Boyd to the ground; which, if Erica wasn't a werewolf, Stiles would think she was suicidal.

"Not that this isn't nice and all," Stiles said around the first bite of his sandwich, glancing over at Derek, who was sitting cross legged only a couple inches away, Derek's one thigh nearly touched Stiles' hip, "But when you said dinner, I thought you meant a restaurant or diner, or something."

Derek was half way through his own sandwich and swallowed before speaking, "You thought wrong." Derek looked out over his pack, satisfied they were distracted for a moment, "I made you dinner. Was there something else you wanted?" Stiles smiled a bit.

"No, this is kinda nice." Stiles said, watching Derek eat, which was fascinating only because Stiles didn't get to see Derek eat. Ever. Stiles wiped his mouth with his sleeve and grabbed a hand full of Cheetos from the bowl between them and started popping them into his mouth between bites of the sandwich. He honestly didn't know what to think about Derek making food at first. He had this previous notion before that Derek couldn't boil water, because there had to be some sort of flaw besides a violent temper and defensive personality. But Seriously, he'd never eaten deer before and it was pretty good. Derek cooked it and sliced it thin and appeared with it in sandwiches atop a hill near the train station where he'd told Stiles to meet him. Stiles was surprised that they were having a PICNIC as their first date. The blanket was from the Hale house and well, no pic-a-nick basket, but it was in a big paper bag. Stiles was astounded when Derek claimed to have made it because he only thought delis made sandwiches this good.

So, eating home made sandwiches from the charcoal grill in the warm summer air with only trees to shield them from the California sun was surprisingly romantic of Derek. Even if Stiles did have to see everyone else. Not that he had grudges against any of the werewolves (except maybe Jackson), but he didn't quite feel alone enough to touch Derek, even casually. Because Stiles really just wanted to run his hand down Derek's strong, denim clad thigh and lay his head on it for a nap in the sun. And he wasn't sure how Derek would react to it around other people. He'd only seen Derek twice in the last week, well, after the cambion fiasco. First was the snuggling they did the night after, and the second time Derek visited in the day time. It was so weird. Opening his front door, seeing Derek, instead of him just appearing in his room. Derek had to tell him several times that he was not another cambion. Derek had KNOCKED on his house door. Like a NORMAL person. It was so bizarre.

But a picnic on Stiles' birthday wasn't so bad. Though Derek still hadn't said the magic birthday words, or revealed a present. Did Derek even know it was his birthday? He swore he'd told him. Or was that the cambion? Crap. He was going to end up repeating everything, wasn't he?

"Did I mention it was my birthday?" Stiles asked curiously and Derek raised an eyebrow at him.

"You did when we made the date." Derek reminded him and Stiles blinked. Oh yeah, he had, "Are you fishing for gifts?"

"What no. NO." Stiles waved the hand that didn't have the sandwich in it, scoffing as though he hadn't been thinking of it. He'd only been half wondering, "... But, just out of curiosity, did you get me anything?"

Derek scoffed, "A date isn't enough?"

"A date is a precursor to a gift." Stiles took another bite of his diminishing sandwich, confident that he had won the topic at hand. Derek eyed him a moment.

"No." Derek finally said and Stiles deflated some.

"You're a sucky boyfriend." Stiles concluded and Derek rolled his eyes, but then paused, looking at Stiles.

"I never agreed to be your boyfriend." Derek held his remaining bite of sandwich in one hand, frowning at Stiles. Stiles pouted more.

"Oh come on, we went through the whole cambion thing and then you sleep over and we're NOT going out?" Stiles asked.

"First of all, stop making assumptions." Derek lifted a finger, leaning his forearm on his knee to come closer to Stiles' face. Stiles blinked, not threatened by the closeness. Well, not threatened too much, "Second of all, I refused to be called your boyfriend. I'm not in high school anymore." Stiles thought about reminding Derek that _he_ was in high school, at least until Derek continued, "We're lovers." Stiles got warm tingles over his skin and his smile almost grew too big to fit on his face as he looked up at Derek.

"Okay, I can deal with that." Stiles was more than happy to call Derek that. He almost wanted to facebook it. or tweet it. God, he wished he could tweet it. And he never used his twitter account, like ever.

Derek sat up and tossed the rest of his meal into his mouth and he chewed thoughtfully, his arms resting on his knees. Stiles took another bite and saw Derek's hand just hanging near by and he smiled a bit, wrapping his nimble fingers around Derek's thick hand and hung on. Derek glanced at their hands and Stiles looked away, in case Derek was giving a sour look. He wanted at least one moment like this uninterrupted. Stiles smiled when a few moments later, Derek's hand repositioned for a better grip and squeezed his hand back. Stiles looked up but Derek was looking away, leaning his chin on his fist, as though he wasn't holding Stiles' hand right back.

"Happy birthday!" Scott suddenly popped up with a good sized birthday cake and Stiles nearly had a heart attack.

"Scott, don't do that, man!" stiles rolled over onto his back, clutching his chest. Derek didn't look too surprised but eyed the birthday cake. Their hands had become disconnected by the scare Stiles had.

"Um, surprise?" Scott followed up, lowering the cake down to look at Stiles over it. Then Scott smiled, "I got candles and everything." Stiles smiled and rolled back over so he could sit up.

"Bring on the cake." Stiles quickly scarfed down the last two bites of his sandwich and he wiped his hands on his pants leg. Scott made himself at home, sitting with his one leg off to the side, setting the cake in the middle of the blanket. Derek didn't protest, moving aside a few things to make room for the circular cake, smeared with white and purple icing. Written in purple print was "Happy Birthday Stiles!" or at least Stiles was sure it translated to that because he recognized Scott's S's and P's. Stiles was sure Ms. McCall had baked the actual cake and Scott had decorated.

Scott got out the candles and started sticking them in the cake and Stiles did not even care that he was bouncing up and down like a little kid. He liked CAKE damn it. When the candles were set, Scott was patting his pockets, as though looking for something. He checked each pocket in his pants twice, then his shirt pocket, cursing quietly.

"You forgot a lighter, didn't you?" Derek was deadpan and Scott gave a helpless shrug. Derek picked his lighter out of his pocket and flicked the flame on, starting to light all the candles that Scott had stuck in the cake, forming the number 17.

The cake started gathering the pack. Isaac first, who sat on the blanket and rested his sleepy head on Scott's shoulder, making Scott blush because Stiles smirked at them. Boyd and Erica were not far behind. Erica was thankfully NOT pregnant, which only made Derek a partial disgruntled werewolf instead of a pissed off one. The happy couple sat down on the blanket and Erica gave Boyd's jaw a playful nip before he pinned her to his chest with an arm, settling her down. Jackson finally made it over too, and he had plates and forks, which he'd run out to get while Scott had to get the cake.

"Okay, birthday boy, make a wish." Erica pointed at Stiles and Stiles looked up to the tree tops, fists curling as he thought, and then he leaned down, blowing out the flickering lights and everyone clapped, even Jackson. Though it was a bit of a sarcastic clap, Stiles determined. Derek started cutting generous slices of delicious looking chocolate cake and gave Stiles the first piece. Stiles dug in immediately, sort of glad that the date had turned into a somewhat party setting. Though he did want to hold hands with Derek again pretty soon.

"So?" Stiles asked while looking at Scott, once everyone had cake, "You two together or what?" Stiles was so used to Scott telling him everything when he was with Allison so he sort of expected it if Scott got with someone else. Isaac and Scott glanced at each other, forks full of cake in their mouths. They kind of shrugged awkwardly at the same time and Stiles thought they were funny looking mirror images of one another.

"They can't decide." Jackson scoffed, having been privy to Scott visiting the Hale house last night and Scott and Isaac talking.

"Oh shut up, Jackson." Isaac muttered into his cake, face red and Jackson just smirked meanly.

"What, you two banged like rabbits and now you can't decide whether to do it again?" Jackson continued and Stiles paused a moment, thinking.

"So who did you bang last week, Jackson?" Stiles suddenly asked, and out of context it would have seemed to be an odd question, but hell, when you see a whole wolf pack banging each other, what's private anymore? Erica started giggling like a mad woman and Boyd shushed her with a big smile on his face. Jackson's face gained this amusing shade of red. Isaac smirked wryly as he stared at Jackson, but Scott started doing math in his head and looking to each couple in turn; Erica and Boyd, Scott and Isaac, Derek and Stiles, Jackson and... and...

"Who did Peter sleep with?" Scott asked and slowly, as though he didn't want to know but morbid curiosity drove him to ask anyway. Everyone glanced in Jackson's direction, who's face darkened in color and scrunched together in anger or embarrassment; really, same emotion for Jackson

"For the record, I had no clue you were so attracted to me, Jackson." Peter spoke from behind Jackson and Jackson did this funny arm dance as he jumped. Stiles also took a deep breath, having been startled to seeing Peter there. Damned ninja werewolves!

"And for YOUR record, YOU'RE out of YOU'RE mind!" Jackson snapped at Peter, "You came on to ME." Peter rolled his eyes.

"I admit you're strapping for a young man, but let's face it, Jackson." Peter smirked darkly at Jackson, "_You_ were the one fucking yourself on _my_ cock." Scott covered his ears and fell over and there was a collective cringe and somewhere in there Jackson lunged for Peter.

Stiles wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or barf with the image in his head. Derek was holding his own head, not wanting to deal with the shenanigans of his uncle and first bitten.

The cake was great and the company was mostly good and Stiles couldn't complain about the day. Although he did wish Scott had gotten him some brain wash to get rid of the awful images of Peter and Jackson doing it instead of a new pack of hi-lighters. Though Stiles had been getting low on hi-lighters. And besides that, colors. Lots of eye drawing colors. Also he'd been given a batman rug, which was going right over the blood stain in his room. He could not quite get the outline of brown which would sooner or later draw his father's attention.

Derek drove him home after cake and Derek parked down the street and they had to walk a block to get to Stiles' house.

"I have a driveway." Stiles said as they reached his home. The only vehicle there was his precious jeep, "I could just park it in the garage." One spot was always reserved in case his dad came home early with a full load of casework.

"That wouldn't be a good idea." Derek told him, watching the street as Stiles unlocked his door. There wasn't exactly enough cake or food to bring home with Stiles. Apparently werewolves had ravenous appetites and he was lucky to get one more handful of Cheetos before they were all gone. Werewolf metabolism was ridiculous.

"Well um..." Stiles leaned into his door and shouldered it open, looking back at Derek, who stood in the doorway, "This isn't gonna be like 'not on the first date,' is it? Because seriously, last week." Derek's face relaxed and followed Stiles inside. Stiles closed the door after him, smiling, "So, uh, do you want some coffee? Hot cocoa? So-" Stile's lips were interrupted by Derek's and he was pressed into the front door; but not unpleasantly. Stiles smiled as Derek drew back, the alpha's hands were gripping Stiles' arms firmly.

"I want to give you your birthday present." Derek said lowly and it took Stiles a couple moments to process it through the rush of the kiss.

"Birthday sex?" Stiles bounced on his toes excitedly. Again, teenage boy. Hormones were totally a great excuse. Derek raised his brows with Stiles' excitement, "What? I'm allowed to get excited about sex. It is sex right? Because that was my birthday wish." Stiles stopped bouncing for a moment and grinned, and just because he could, "Sex." Derek rolled his eyes.

"Yes, that is what I'm offering." He said and Stiles ran his hands down Derek's broad chest, gaining the werewolf's full ridged attention. Stiles paused for a split moment, remembering that they had not actually had non-drugged up sex before. His fingers slid down the hem of Derek's leather jacket, calming himself the best he could.

"So um... this is a big deal." Stiles said, trying not to include all the sex he had with the cambion, which was a lot of sex. He had sex with the real Derek Hale maybe two and a half times? Did magic blow jobs count? Was Derek nervous?

"You ARE 17." Derek reminded him and Stiles blinked. Why was that a big deal?

"Yeah... and?" Stiles rested his hands on Derek's shoulders, "I'm still a year away from 18. I guess this is still a little illegal." Derek paused, brows lowering in thought and then he cursed, head lowering to Stile's shoulder. Stiles then remembered where Derek had been for the past 6 years, "Oh! OH! Is that the legal age of consent in New York?" Stiles paused for the briefest moments, "... Is this going to deny me birthday sex? Because I won't tell. I mean Scott and Allison went at it like rabbits."

"I'm 6 years older than you." Derek looked Stiles in the eye and Stiles shrugged.

"Peter is like, what, 30 years older than Jackson?" Stiles asked and Derek made a disgusted face and Stiles didn't blame him, "This is way less creepy, because I love you. So totally different situation. I mean, really, you can't beat Jackson being attracted to Peter in the area of creepiness. What?" Stiles asked when he saw Derek's face contorted in something he didn't recognize. Maybe something like stunned raised eyebrows with a hint of uncertainty, "Did I quote Allison? I think I totally just quoted Allison there. I just said that out loud, didn't I?" Derek gathered his wits and stared Stiles in the eye.

"Say it again. Slowly." Derek told him and Stiles felt his heart beat more clearly and his face heat up. His fingers gripped Derek's jacket tighter.

"I... love you." Stiles repeated and took a deep breath afterwards. Okay,maybe he could see why Scott had been stunned the first time he admitted it as well. Sort of a big hurdle. Especially since he was saying it to the most expressively dysfunctional werewolf in the world. Derek seemed content, as in he lost most of the stress creases in his face and nodded.

"Okay, then you get your present." Derek said and pulled away, leaving Stiles chilly against the door. Derek was headed for upstairs and Stiles quickly followed, the biggest grin on his face as he insisted on taking Derek's hand up the stairs. Especially when Derek followed up with a "Happy Birthday" at the end of the night.

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This story is officially OVER! Please tip the lovely author with a comment. What was your favorite bit? Least Favorite? It'll be most helpful in future. Currently caught in the updraft of Supernatural whirlwind but I'm sure to get back to Teen Wolf eventually. May or not be a little blip if I ever get to it, but it's done. Hope you enjoyed.


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